


Destiny's Hand

by ladyamesindy



Series: ShepShep - John and Jane  Shepard [8]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-01-30 17:52:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 57,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12658479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyamesindy/pseuds/ladyamesindy
Summary: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.”Jean de La Fontaine"Death may be the greatest of all human blessings."Socrates"Life is what you make of it, friend. If it doesn't fit, you make alterations."Stella (Silverado)Together for half their lives, death rips Jane and John apart for eternity.  Or does it?  From death comes life ...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And thus we begin the second part of ShepShep's journey. HUGE thanks to scarlethalloran for betaing some of these early chapters, and Whuffie for helping with the banner!

 

_**DESTINY'S HAND** _

 

 

 

“Vacation, huh?”

Striding beyond the checkpoint, John Shepard’s observation nearly got lost among the usual clatter and clamor to be found in a docking yard.  Sights and sounds, hustle and bustle, it was both visually and audibly jarring after having the past two weeks off.  Some ships were in various states of loading and unloading, others were dry docked in various states of repair.  At the very far end, there was even one of the newer dreadnoughts, bright and shiny and awaiting its first commission.  

Breathing in deeply and hefting her N7 duffle over her shoulder in a smooth motion, Jane chuckled, indicating she’d heard.  It was difficult to believe two weeks had flown by with such speed and, astonishingly enough, without incident.  No rushing into battle or defending otherwise unprotected innocents from danger.  No rogue spectres trying to gain access to the galaxy for some dark space sentient giant of a being bent on galactic domination and destruction.  Just fourteen days of calm and relaxation.  Of catching up on the latest books and movies they’d missed out on, the latest _Blasto_ movie notwithstanding.  Of sleeping in as late as they desired (or not) and no pressing mission calling them to duty.  Of ordering in dinner when they didn’t feel like going out to eat or cooking it themselves.  Of just being _free_ from the responsibilities of command and service.

All in all, a well earned rest.

“Almost that honeymoon take-two you promised, too,” Jane teased.

Grinning back at her John promised, “Not even close.”

Despite the cacophony surrounding them, finding their ship was an easy enough task.  No matter where docked, the _Normandy_ would stand out in a crowd.  A prototype deep scout frigate from the joint creative minds of the Alliance and Turian Hierarchy, it had more than proved its worth on its inaugural mission.  As far as the two N7s were concerned, it was a gem of untold value.  It wasn’t pride so much as honor that had them viewing it as _their_ ship before an Alliance vessel.

Out of the corner of his eye, John caught his wife’s slowing steps as the _Normandy_ came into better view.  Rolling his eyes -- she always got a little star struck when ships were involved -- he snagged the strap of her duffle and continued forward at a good clip.  Turning around and walking backwards, he watched her face while observing, “All tuned up and raring to go, too.  Looks like Joker even ran her through the wash just for us.”

“The Commander deserves the best,” the pilot called out from the hatchway, grinning widely as the pair approached.

“Just remember who’s captain of this vessel,” John warned.

With a snort, the pilot’s eyes shifted to Jane’s as he offered a salute and retorted automatically, “Aye aye, ma’am.”

“Ooooo, Flight Lieutenant Snark is back,” Jane greeted him with a grin and a wink.  “I’ve missed you.”

“All rested and ready to go, too,” Joker assured her, affectionately patting the bulkhead.

Boarding, Jane turned to him and asked more seriously, “Any problems getting her refit?”

Joker shook his head.  “Nope, not a one.  As the _captain_ said, she’s fit as a fiddle and raring to go.”

“Commanders.”

Jane’s gaze shifted as Pressly joined them.  “Hello, Pressly.”

John tilted his head slightly as he surveyed the Navigation officer, as usual sporting his dress blues when on duty and in the CIC.  “Looking pretty spiffy there, Pressly.”

Pressly, well used to John’s occasionally irreverent sense of humor, ignored him.  Instead, he handed a datapad to Jane.  “Orders from Alliance Command, Commander.”

Jane scanned the details.  “Who are we still waiting on?”

“Supplies should finish loading within the half hour.  Most of the crew disembarked at Arcturus for shore leave.  Everyone is back except for Doctor Chakwas who, I’ve been told, will now meet up with us at the Citadel.”  He shrugged, just the barest hint of movement of his shoulders.  “Something about a professional paper she was giving at a conference there.”

Nodding, Jane handed the datapad back to him.  “Good.  Once we’re done loading, get us started to the Serpent Nebula.”

“Aye aye, Commander.”

Walking through the CIC side by side with her husband, Jane nodded at several of the crew members who paused momentarily in their duties to offer greeting, but she otherwise remained silent.  It wasn’t until they reached their cabin below deck that John asked, “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Hmm?”

Setting their duffles aside for the moment he reached out and grasped a hand before she could get too far out of reach.  “You aren’t usually so mum’s the word after receiving orders,” he pointed out.  “And your shift to all business mode was pretty abrupt up there.  Joker and Pressly might not have picked up on it, but I did.”

“You’re imagining things,” she told him.

“Nope.  One moment I’m waiting for you to make a crack about keeping the car keys from Joker or something, and the next you are making a beeline for our cabin and barely acknowledging the lower ranks.”  He paused, tilting his head slightly to the right.  “Something in those orders I should know about?”

Sighing softly, Jane dropped onto the bed.  She ran her hands through her shoulder length coppery tresses before leaning backwards, propping herself on her hands and giving her husband a neutral look.  “The Council wants to see me as soon as we get to the Citadel.”

John pulled a chair over so he could face her, turning it backwards and dropping onto it while leaning his arms across the top edge, his eyes fully focused on her.  “Reason?”

“They didn’t say.”

Frowning, she sat up, her hands moving to rest on her lap while fingers tangled and untangled together.  It was a sure sign of her level of irritation and frustration and, possibly, worry.  Argue to the contrary as she might, it left him concerned.  After a moment, he asked, “You want backup when you go see them?  Like before?”  They’d talked over certain aspects of their last mission over the past two weeks -- well, more like he’d talked  and she’d listened.  Most of the focus had been that last mission against Saren and the challenges they’d both faced, none of which had been anything like _normal_.  John had even opened up to her about the personal conflict he’d faced.  The discussion had come after he’d vented first.

Smiling over at him now, head tilted so she was peeking through strands of hair, she replied, “You know I don’t mind, but don’t you be surprised if they pull the ‘spectre-only’ card on you and turn you away.”

John grunted softly in acknowledgement.  “I’ll manage.”  And if they did, chances were she’d update him just as soon as possible afterwards anyway.  It was the waiting that nearly killed him.

“ _Commander, we just received approval to pull out,_ ” Joker broke in, interrupting their discussion.

Jane smirked at her husband.  “Is he talking to me-commander or you-commander, do you think?” she asked.

Rolling his eyes, John pressed his comm and replied, “Take us out, Joker.  Let me know when we approach the Nebula.”

 

~ n ~

 

Arrival at the Citadel was standard procedure by now, and as the _Normandy_ followed the flight path in John and Jane watched from the bridge.  

“Wow, they’ve been busy cleaning up,” Jane observed, more than a little hint of wonder in her tone.  The station itself wasn’t near completely cleared of battle scars and debris by any means, but many of the major pieces of wreckage that had been left floating around it were now gone.  It was definitely an improvement over the post-battle scene they’d witnessed as they’d left two weeks ago.

“I wonder if having Anderson on the Council helps?” John mused.  The man was still an Alliance officer despite the change in titles and much of the wreckage now gone had come from Alliance ships damaged or destroyed in the fight against Sovereign.

“We’ve got clearance to dock at our usual place,” Joker told them after a moment.

“Sounds good.  Take her in,” Jane replied.

As he maneuvered the ship, the pilot muttered, “I just hope they don’t try that docking clamp thing again.”

Jane chuckled and gently patted his shoulder in reassurance.  “We were cleared of wrongdoing for our escape,” she reminded him.

“That’s what they _said_ …”

Jane exited the bridge with John following behind, turning towards the main hatch.  “I don’t know how long this will take,” she told him as she secured her pistol at her hip.  Things might be well on their way back to normal around the Citadel, but she wasn’t about to leave the ship with some sort of weapon in hand.  Just in case.  “You know how the Council can be.”  Which basically meant it would depend on what sort of moods Councilors Sparatus and Valern were in.  

“Well, unless they want you back out on patrol ASAP, in which case I’d expect it to be brief, I don’t see that it matters much.  We still need to wait on Williams, Liara, Tali and Dr. Chakwas anyway,” he pointed out.

The main hatch opened allowing them to disembark.

“Or not,” Jane countered, halting just a few steps out.

John paused as Jane slowed, his eyes were drawn to movement at the end of the ramp.  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“Commander!”

The chorus of warm greetings was a welcome one, but almost as soon as it was done, Jane gave them all an apologetic look.  “Sorry, but I have to go see the Council.  We can catch up when I get back.”

Williams affected a pout and Tali’s stance suggested something similar, since her mask hid her facial expressions.  Liara appeared confused at first, at least until Williams not so subtly elbowed the asari in her arm at which point her eyes dropped to stare down at her hands as she slumped her shoulders.  Clearly it was a practiced move.

Only the doctor appeared to take it all in stride.  That, however, ended when Jane started to walk away.  “Commander, have you forgotten our discussion a few weeks back?”

Jane paused mid-stride and turned to face her.  “No, Doctor, I haven’t.”

“Then might I suggest we have our conversation first before you --”

Grinning almost sheepishly at the doctor, Jane continued walking ... backwards.  “Sorry, Doc, but the Council outranks even you.”

Chakwas folded her arms across her chest and leveled an even stare at Jane.  “Commander --”

“Take it up with Councilor Anderson!”  Behind her, Jane heard John chuckle.  A quick look over her shoulder and she found him calling the elevator with his back to the conversation.  “You’re no help at all!” she hissed.  To the doctor, she added, “I promise, Doc, I’ll come find you the minute I get back.”

“You had better, Commander,” the doctor threatened, “or I will pull you off active duty until such time as you _make_ time.”

The elevator opened behind her and Jane stepped backwards into it, her hand waving at all four women.  “I _will_ make the time,” she called back.  “I promise!”

Once the door closed and the elevator started moving, Jane leaned heavily against the wall with a laugh.  “Whew!  That was close!”

John frowned at her.  “What was that all about?”

“My yearly physical,” she explained.  “She tried to get me back while we were after Saren, but I kept putting her off.”  Sighing, she straightened before the elevator came to a stop.  “Guess I’ve finally run out of excuses now that Saren and Sovereign have been taken care of.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying the beginning of ShepShep's next big adventure! Thank you for reading!
> 
> This story will update on Mondays along with my other fics. I am well into Nano now (more than halfway there!), and going out of town next week but I should be able to get an update out before I go.

Silence could be loud enough to shake the rafters, or so Jane had heard in her youth.  Until now she’d never understood the expression.  Standing beside the examination table in MedBay she deftly tucked her uniform back into place, but she knew it was only thanks to habit and muscle memory.  In truth, she would have admitted to being stunned by the doctor’s announcement if it wasn’t so…unrealistic.  A dream…too far out to touch, no matter how far the hand was extended.

_She has to be joking with me -- punishing me for putting my checkup off for so long._  

They were three weeks out on the mission set by the Council and Jane finally found a few spare moments to report for her physical.  A physical that would go officially on her record.  A physical that the doctor could not fudge, just to get back at Jane for her delaying tactics.  One she had reported to reluctantly, but with honest apology and willingness to see it done.  

_Okay, so no joke … but it has to be an error of some sort.  Doesn’t it?  This can’t possibly be real._  

Finally finding her voice, Jane managed to mutter the first thing that came to mind, “Doc, tell me you aren’t joking about this.”

Dr. Karin Chakwas, eyes trained fully on the first human spectre and her reactions to her announcement, shook her head.  “Commander, I never joke about my work.  You should know that.”

Requiring the strength of something solid behind her to hold her up, Jane leaned her hips back against the table while bringing her hands to her face.  She covered it for just a moment before rubbing furiously, then dropping them back to her sides.  “When?” she whispered.  A twitch at the doctor’s lips had Jane rethinking her question.  “Due, I mean, Doc, not started.  My math’ll take me that far.”   _Had to have been on the way to Ilos._

Karin smirked gently, but remained amused nonetheless.  “I should hope so,” she replied.  A quick glance at the datapad in her hands gave her the answers requested.  “Time enough to finish this mop up mission even if it extends beyond the end of the month, I should think, but after that I am going to recommend you be stationed planetside for the duration.  Given the difficulties you’ve had previously, I’d say --”

Jane flinched.  Planetside for the duration.  “Oh boy …”

The doctor turned to face the commander.  “Actually,” she countered in an overly casual sort of tone while winking at her, “technically speaking, girl.  I hope that isn’t disappointing to you.”

Jane froze, eyes darting upwards and widening.  “You -- you are being completely serious with me here ... right?”

Karin nodded.  “Need I remind you, commander --”

“No, no!  You really don’t!  It’s…it’s  just…John and I talked about trying.  Again.   _Weeks_ ago…clearly before…”  Her eyes dropped, pausing at the flatness of her waist line.  Gesturing awkwardly to it, she continued, “Well, before _this_ ….  Karin, you _know_ we’ve been trying for years…it’s in my records.”  Jane’s hands covered her face again.  “Oh, man…”

A hand, reassuring in touch and grasp, settled at Jane’s shoulders and she dared a peek through her fingers at the doctor.  

“So, you want this?”

“Hell yes!”  Despite her vehement proclamation, her voice was barely a rasp.

Lips curving upwards, Karin guided Jane to sit in the chair at her desk.  “Why don’t you sit for a moment and I will page John down here.  It’s been my experience the father sometimes takes it a bit harder than the mother, and as you say, given your history...”

Jane wanted to laugh at that, but the weight of her situation now settled firmly on her shoulders and wouldn’t allow it.  Taking a deep breath, she shook her head and pushed herself to her feet.  “No, I’m fine…  Really, I am.  I’ll go find him.”  She swallowed past a sudden lump in her throat.  “You…you’re absolutely certain about this?”

Karin grabbed something off her desk and handed it over to Jane.  Taking it in her hand, the commander turned it to find a plastic stick with a pink coloring at the top and a large plus sign on the message screen.  “One hundred percent,” the doctor promised.

Jane stared at it long and hard before slipping it into one of the pockets on her leg.  The thing was a visual representation of the results of her bioscan, she knew that, but the fact that the doctor would go to such lengths meant the world to Jane in that moment.  “Thanks.”

 

~ n ~

 

In the end, however, he found her first.  And there there simply was no time.  

Exiting the MedBay, Jane turned towards the cabin she and her husband shared, the last place she’d seen him just before sneaking off to her appointment.  But before she could even make her way through the mess hall, the _Normandy_ lurched drunkenly to the starboard side.  Jane’s hand shot out and she managed to catch herself on the lockers, but others in the area weren’t so fortunate.  Struggling to her feet, she stumbled around the area to check the status of her crew.  Thankfully, the worst appeared to be bumps and bruises and one possibly sprained wrist, the owner of whom Jane sent immediately to the MedBay for examination.

But what followed next turned out to be the stuff of nightmares.  Alarms, shouts, ship wide calls of alarm from the CIC mixed with shouts of terror around her, and above it all Jane could hear the first sickeningly sharp sounds of hull plating cracking apart and the crunching of metal.

At that, Jane dove to her locker and retrieved her armor, helmet and all.  If the hull plating was taking a hit, chances were likely the ship’s environmental systems wouldn’t hold much longer.  Certain barriers would protect the exposed areas of the ship, but only if the systems remained undamaged.  Jane wasn’t about to bet her life on that just now.  Tugging her helmet into place, she tapped her comm.  Shouting, her voice barely heard in her own ears with all that was happening around her, Jane shouted, “Joker, what’s our status?”

“ _We’re under attack, Commander!  We’ve taken a direct hit from -- Oh shit!  They’re coming around again!  Everybody brace for impact!_ ”

The _Normandy_ shuddered and groaned, heaving violently beneath Jane’s feet, but this time she reached out and grasped hold of a console before she could be tossed pell mell.  Still, she landed hard and awkwardly on one knee, though she remained where she was.  A quick glance at the console alerted her that the ship’s systems were taking severe damage.  Pressing a button on the console she caught a hurriedly scrolling list of just what that entailed.  None of it was good.  Environmentals were gone in most areas of the ship and the lift between the shuttle bay, engineering, and crew deck was stuck.  

“Jane!”

Glancing up, she found John struggling around a fallen beam blocking most of the sleeper pod area.  He was a sight for sore eyes to be certain, but along with that came a greater concern.  “Joker says we’re under attack.  We’ve got hull breaches here and here and here,” she pointed at the visual display of the ship at the console, “and we’re rapidly losing environmentals across the ship.”  She bit her lip as her eyes met his again.  “John, we need to evacuate.”

He didn’t argue, she could tell that by the look in his eyes through the helmet.  Any reluctance she saw wasn’t because of that but because of the helplessness of having the ship shot out from under them.  The _Normandy_ , their _baby_.  “Go,” he told her.  “I’ll take care of this --”

Shaking her head, Jane stubbornly kept her position.  She rapidly entered a command code then slammed her hand down to send out the mayday distress.  “Get the crew to the escape pods,” she told him.  “Clear them out, John!  I’ll take care of this then go topside to get Joker.”  She didn’t have to state the obvious -- that the pilot would rather go down with the ship than leave.  Neither of them needed to be told that.

“Jane --”

“It’s _your_ ship, John, see it through!”  She turned away to leave, catching his eyes in the process.  “Get the crew off.  I’ll get Joker and we’ll meet up again groundside.  Go!”

Shouts and cries all around them rose again as another chunk of debris fell too near a group of evacuees and it pulled both their attentions away for the moment.  Darting over to assist, Jane helped one of the crew as John and another crew member pushed some debris off them.  “Go,” she insisted to him afterwards, “I’ll get Joker.”

With one last lingering look between them, Jane added, “Don’t you be late, Mister!”  She could see so much in his eyes.  Far _too_ much to respond to just now.

 

~ n ~

 

Facing a crisis was nothing new to John.  All of his years in service, plus much of his childhood, had prepared him for this.  Deep inside himself, he found a place of inner calm and shut off his own personal fears and concerns while turning his focus to the job at hand.  

Evacuating the _Normandy_.

Getting to the escape pods turned out to be a greater challenge than he expected.  Damage to the ship was severe enough that the increasing number of safety hazards left dangers for him and the others he collected along the way at every turn.  He did the best he could to herd all _Normandy_ personnel he came across in the direction of the pods as he went.  Those who could scrambled ahead and made sure the pods were prepared.  Those requiring assistance relied on fellow crewmates.  By the end, though he knew his count to be wildly inaccurate, John thought he had found almost everybody on board.

“Go!  Go!  Go!” he shouted.  At the end he was literally tossing slower moving individuals into the pods in order to get the doors shut so they could launch.  With the ship disintegrating around them, it was going to be close.  He made it to the last of the pods finally and followed the last crewman inside, securing the door and dropping into his seat as the restraint settled around his shoulders.  The pod jerked violently as the thrusters propelled them free of the fuselage, but the harness latched into place in time to keep him from flying across to the far side the small pod.

Now free of the _Normandy_ , the inside of the pod was silent and eerily calm.  The absence of blaring alarms and the creaks and groans of his ship breaking up beneath his feet were as jolting as when they first began.  The crew seated around him were quiet as well and it didn’t take more than a quick glance to see that most were in various stages of shock.  A window on the far side of the pod gave them a view of the distance they were gaining from what little remained of the _Normandy_.  John kept his eyes focused outside, occasionally catching a glimpse of the ship in her final death throes.  It was enough to make him sick to his stomach.

Just before pulling his gaze from the scene -- nothing would be gained by watching further -- John saw one final pod emerging from the wreckage.  The trajectory told him enough: it came from the bridge.  With a sigh of relief, his head dropped back against the headrest and his eyes closed.   _Jane_ …

 

~ n ~

 

There was no time for regret.  

Watching Joker’s pod break free from the _Normandy_ was satisfaction enough, but at the same time Jane knew it was her last living act in command.  The tickling hiss of venting oxygen in her ear was a stark reminder of the risks she took on a daily basis and the ultimate price owed when those risks proved too great.  Duty came before all else, even if it meant the loss of her own life.  Her father explained that once when she was small, but Jane hadn’t ever really understood.  Her mother had proven it by her actions on Mindoir.  Having faced it several times in her own service since, Jane could understand it better.   

This time was different.

She fought back, desperately reaching for the hose, hoping she could patch it well enough to last until someone found her, but even as she did she recognized the ugly truth.  Bits and pieces of _Normandy_ debris were already being sucked into the atmosphere of the planet below.  Even if she could find a way to fix her life support, she had no way to stop the inevitable spiral downwards...

Biting back a sob of frustration at the timing and unfairness of it all, Jane sought peace in the cold, bitter darkness of space around her.  “John…,” she rasped, her voice a lonely echo in her helmet, “I’m so sorry…”  Slowly, her eyes closed and her surroundings slowly faded to black as the arms of eternal sleep wrapped tightly around her.

 

~ n ~

 

“How many missing?”

Williams, propped against the side of the pod to ease the weight on her busted leg, replied, “Twenty-two, but one pod is still unaccounted for, Skipper.  I’ve got the names…”

John took the datapad from her, ignoring how the Chief’s voice trailed off, shaking just slightly.  He could guess why.  Jane’s name would be on that list.  Joker’s, too.  Theirs was the missing pod.

“We’ve got three patrols out scouting around for them now,” Williams was quick to add.

“I saw it launch,” John informed her, shoving the datapad back into her hands as if in denial.  “Their trajectory was different, but it has to have landed somewhere on this planet.”

“The data I managed to download from the _Normandy_ before we lost range indicates it was the last to leave,” Tali spoke up, “and it’s trajectory could have put it miles from here … or right over there.”  She pointed west and shrugged.  “There are too many variables to tell for certain, and once it left the ship, I have no source for further updates.”

“Commander, let me have a look at your injuries.”

John scowled and turned away as Chakwas tried to corner him.  “Not now, doctor.”

“Yes now, commander,” she insisted in a harder edged tone.  “If you are to lead us through all this, you need to be in the best condition possible.  You cannot do that if you are distracted by your injuries.”

John’s scowl deepened, but he followed the doctor over to the makeshift medbay she’d created out of two of the pods.  Three crewmen were inside one, the worst of those injured during their hectic evacuation, and a fourth was tending to them.  Chakwas took him inside the empty pod.  “Have a seat,” she told him while pulling up her omnitool.  

Frustration was eating away at him, but John did as asked.  He knew good and well that his decisions and actions here were just as important as those he’d made aboard ship during this process.  He also knew that all of it would come under review whenever this ‘accident’ was investigated.  “Doc, make it quick, will you?  I need to get back out there --”

“Chief Williams was correct,” the doctor told him.  “We have several patrols out looking.  The remaining crew are going to need you focused on the job at hand here, concerning _all_ of us, not just one pod with two people in it.”

John glared over at her.  “Even if one of those people is my wife?”

“Especially then.  Tell me, commander, have you not gone through training for this --”

Sighing, John dropped his head.  “Of course I have.  We both have.”

“Then you understand that the needs of the entire crew come before the needs of one individual.”

“And if that one is our commanding officer?” he challenged.  “I have a responsibility to do everything within my power to see that she’s returned and you know it.”

Footsteps at the doorway announced an arrival.  “Commander?  One of the patrols has returned,” one of the yeomen announced, “and they’ve got Flight Lieutenant Moreau with them.”

John practically leapt off the table.  “Sorry, Doc, but duty calls.”

Sighing, Karin followed him.  “You know you could have waited inside -- Joker’s likely going to need treatment given his Vrolik’s syndrome.”

John ignored her and followed the yeoman.

 

~ n ~

 

“What do you mean she isn’t with you?”

Several of the crewmen who helped carry the litter with Joker on it and still remained nearby cringed a little at the strength of anger in their commander’s voice, but Joker did not.  “Just what I said, commander.  That enemy ship came back around for another pass.  It hit with it’s beam thing just as she was helping me into the pod.  The jolt from that hit knocked her backwards, out of the pod…and next thing I know the door’s closing and I’m being launched off into space.”  He lifted his right arm even as Doctor Chakwas busily worked to mend the broken bones.  “How else do you think I got so many breaks?  I got tossed about as wildly as a biotiball and no nets were involved inside that thing!”

The world around John threatened to go dark, but he locked his knees in a preventative measure.  “Where the hell is she then?” he growled.

The pilot looked as beaten mentally as his body scan showed physically.  He opened his mouth, attempting to speak, but words didn’t leave.  Shaking his head, shoulders slouching forward, he dropped his gaze from John’s and looked away.  

Silence moved in and for once John found no peace or calm in it.  Anger, frustration, all fueled by a healthy dose of denial left him struggling to take a deep breath.  An ache began to bloom in his chest, growing with ever increasing speed and spreading throughout his limbs.  It clawed at his throat, leaving him desperate for some sort of release, but he wouldn’t.  Couldn’t.  Spinning away from the doctor and the pilot, John stumbled towards the exit of the escape pod.  Outside, he surged forward, almost drunkenly in his movements, moving only so far as his legs would hold him.  Falling to his knees, his head tilted upwards, the dark skies above the planet presenting a different scenario.  The constellations above twinkled with a softness and beauty that defied his current state.  And in the distance, on the low horizon, the path of a shooting star cut through the night…and along with it his dreams.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“You know, there are some who might suggest that meeting in a bar is hardly a work environment meant for such meetings.”

Alenko smiled, turning to rise from his seat.  He greeted his friend with a hearty handshake before gesturing him at the open one across from him.  “Then they have no idea what it was like for those of us who saved the galaxy,” he countered easily.

The turian chuckled as he sat.  “I can’t argue with that when I agree,” Garrus replied.  A server stopped by briefly to take his order then left the two in peace.  “How are the cleanup efforts going?” he asked next.

Alenko’s eyes rolled and he sighed.  “You’d think the primary concern would be to get the station rebuilt and help those who suffered most,” he muttered.  “What about C-Sec?”

Garrus grimaced.  “Yeah.  I’ve tried voicing my objections, but all I get in return is, _Certain areas require attention first.  Priorities, you know that_.”  His sigh matched Alenko’s in tone.  “Damned thing is, after all the time I’ve put in there, I do.”

“What has me concerned is that pieces and parts of Sovereign are going missing,” Alenko murmured.  

“Oh?”

The server returned with Garrus’ drink and a second beer for Alenko then left them again.  Alenko waited until she was a good distance away before responding.  He’d chosen this table with care -- the fewer ears that heard them right now, the better.  “I expected there to be a certain level of snatch and grab,” he admitted.  “There always is with this sort of thing.  I call it the ‘curiosity factor.’  But from what I can tell, there’s more than thirty percent of it that I can’t account for now.  Most of it’s been collected, and we have teams scouring through the Wards double checking residences, ventilation shafts, the usual sorts of places where debris can end up, but …”

“Thirty percent?” Garrus hissed.  He lifted his drink and drank for a moment, collecting his thoughts.  “Spirits!  We still don’t know what kind of damage that thing can do, if any, or even if it’s really dead!”

“Exactly.”  Alenko pressed a few buttons on his omnitool, sending some data over to Garrus.  “I didn’t think much of it at first.  Like I said, a small percentage is to be expected.  But we’ve had a couple of people come back from the cleanup crews acting … well, oddly.  The doctors did an examination, but they found nothing.  The only reason I found out about it was the report came across my desk on its way to Anderson.  Before passing it on, and after what we heard about on Virmire, I decided to look into the situation myself.  The first thing I noticed when I arrived at one of the deris sites was that my omnitool was acting strangely.  Scans were fluctuating wildly and at times the results were off the charts.  I ran diagnostics immediately … only they came back normal.”  He nodded towards Garrus’ omnitool.  “Those are the results of three separate scans I took of the same piece of debris, all within a few minutes of one another.”

Opening his ‘tool, Garrus started to examine the data.  At Alenko’s last comment, he blinked and looked over at his friend.  “The _same_ piece?”

Alenko nodded.  “Yeah.  A fairly large one, too.  Tell me those readings aren’t ridiculous.”

Garrus pressed a button to shift to the next set of results.  And the next.  The results of the three scans spread from one end of the spectrum to the other, and had absolutely nothing in common.  As if Alenko had scanned three separate objects.  “I … don’t know what to tell you.”

“I can’t explain it either,” Alenko said.  “But _some_ thing is causing it.”  He sighed again, frustration evident in his tone as he continued.  “I tried to warn Allied Command and Anderson what we found out about the Reapers and Sovereign on Virmire, but I was told to just continue supervising the cleanup efforts.  Anderson assured me someone with ‘expertise’ would be examining the remains as soon as they were gathered.”

“Who?”

Alenko shook his head.  “No idea.  In fact, when I asked, the question was pointedly avoided.  That was weeks ago.  Every time I try to go back and follow up on it now I hit a roadblock.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to get anywhere either,” Garrus warned, “but I can try.  Didn’t anyone take Shepard’s warnings about indoctrination into consideration?”

“Apparently not.”  Alenko took a long pull from his beer and leaned back into his seat.  “A part of me wants to reach out and contact her, to let her know what’s happening,” he admitted.  “Maybe have her get in touch with the Council -- I don’t know.”

“I doubt there’s anything she can do right now,” Garrus replied.  “She has her own mission.”  A soft beep slipped from his omnitool, but he ignored it for the moment.  “What happened to those workers you mentioned?” he asked instead.  “The ones who were acting oddly?”

“They were sent back to do their job,” Alenko replied.  “However, within a week they were gone.”

Garrus frowned.  “What do you mean, gone?”

“Just that.”  Alenko’s omnitool buzzed softly at his wrist.  “I don’t know if they were pulled from the project, transferred, fired, or just walked off the job, but one day they were there and the next they were gone.  No explanation.  And no paper trail.  If they were part of the same crew, it could be written off, I suppose.  But they weren’t.  One was working on the crew cleaning up the Presidium, the other was working down in the Wards.”

Garrus frowned, considering his options.  “Have you got their names?  I could do a station-wide search using C-Sec’s resources?”  Garrus shrugged.  “There’s a chance they could have been picked up.”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”  Alenko’s wrist buzzed a second time and he scowled down at the device in irritation.  

Garrus chuckled.  “It would help if people understood what ‘off duty’ actually meant, wouldn’t it?”

Alenko ran a hand through his hair.  “This assignment is turning out to be more challenging than I thought it would be,” he said.  “I think I prefer being shipboard.”

“No argument from me there.”

The sound of heavy approaching footsteps had both turning.  One of the reasons Alenko had picked the spot was due to its relative seclusion within the bar.  They both sat the shadows, and it was difficult to tell anyone actually occupied the table, truth be told.  And yet, someone had found them both.

“Lieutenant, I was under the impression you were to be at my beck and call when I needed you.”

Bolting to his feet, Alenko turned and saluted.  “Sorry, sir!”

Anderson’s lips curved slightly with a hint of a smile.  “At ease, son.”  His eyes drifted over to Garrus.  “You are difficult to reach as well, Officer Vakarian.”

Confused, Garrus glanced at Alenko.  The lieutenant shrugged.  “Did you need us, Councilor?” he asked.  

Sobering, Anderson nodded.  “Actually, I do.  If you’d both come with me, a  … situation, shall we say, has arisen.”

It was on the tip of Alenko’s tongue to ask what that meant, but they were in the middle of the bar.  Too many ears listening, based off the general sort of declaration the councilor had made.  Something was going on and it appeared to be serious.

Anderson guided them through the Wards towards one of the many elevators that led directly to the Presidium.  Kaidan recognized the one they stepped into.  This one ended just outside the Council chambers.  “Sir?”  It was the closest he’d get to asking what was going on while still technically out in public view.

The doors closed behind them as the elevator started moving.  Turning to them, Anderson said, “About an hour ago, Alliance Command started receiving an automated mayday signal from the Amada system.”

Alenko frowned.  The name wasn’t familiar to him.  “The Amada system?”

Not so with the turian.  “Why would the Alliance be out there?” Garrus asked.  “There’s nothing but --”

“Geth,” Anderson said.  That one word startled both men into straightening.  “The _Normandy_ was sent out to clean up the last remnants of the geth.”

A cold shot of trepidation sliced sharply through Alenko.  “Shit!  The _Normandy_ sent the signal!” he breathed.

Anderson nodded.  “There was a secondary purpose to the _Normandy’_ s mission,” he added.  “In the past month or two, several ships have gone missing from that sector.  Their primary goal was to clean up the last of the geth hotspots, but they were to keep an eye out for anything else … odd.”

“I don’t understand,” Garrus interjected.  “The _Normandy_ ’s stealth systems should keep it undetectable from any other ship.  What kind of trouble could they have run into?”

“You said it was the automated mayday, correct?” Alenko asked the councilor.

Anderson nodded.

“Could it have been a freak shipboard emergency?”

Anderson shrugged and shook his head.  “That’s all I know,” he admitted.  “So far, all we’ve received is the mayday.  If they’re following standard procedure, Command will send out a response team, but I haven’t been able to find out the details of that.  Even if I did, they’re still hours away from the Amada System.”  He paused to look between the two.  “I was hoping you both might be willing to assist me in finding out more.”

“Absolutely,” Garrus agreed immediately.  “I will do what I can.”

“Do you want us tapping into Systems Alliance communications, sir?”

“Anything you can give me, lieutenant.”  The elevator came to a halt and Anderson led them to the right, down a long hall, and straight into a small side room connected to his office.  Inside the room were standard issue Alliance communications equipment.  “Whatever you can find out,” he added, just a hint of worry creeping into his tone now.  

Alenko shared a quick look with Garrus and both nodded at the councilor.  “Understood, sir.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from Thanksgiving, Nano almost done and about to dive into working on more chapters for this story! Enjoy the latest update!

At first, it was almost like they were blind.  The _Normandy_ was a Systems Alliance ship, true enough, but it was on a Council requested mission.  Though the mayday and subsequent rescue was definitively in Alliance hands, there was information -- or the potential for information -- available from the Spectre side of things.  Assuming they could gain access to it.

Alenko left that line of questioning to Councilor Anderson and Garrus.  He had his hands full with the Alliance side of things anyway.  Tracking Systems Alliance communications was easy enough on the surface, and if problems arose that dropping Anderson’s name couldn’t help with, Alenko’s technical abilities were almost always up to the challenge.  At least in the beginning.

Anderson’s access to Alliance intel had expanded upon promotion to his new status as Earth’s representative, but there were still some areas Command would not let him in.  As time ticked away on Alenko’s omni-tool, it became increasingly clear this was going to be one of those cases.  He uncovered a name which led to a ship, and eventually a redeployment order for an SAR mission.  But beyond that, he hit a wall.  

Garrus wasn’t having much luck either, even after Anderson obtained a temporary transfer of the C-Sec officer to his command for the duration through proper channels.  At every stage, he was blocked.  He could not gain access to either Council or Spectre records regarding the nature of the mission or anything else.

Alone in the Councilor’s office, Garrus vented his frustration at Alenko.  “What’s the point of approving my transfer to help him if they aren’t going to give me what I need?”

Alenko sat at the table rubbing his hands over tired eyes that felt as if they were filled with grains of sand.  “Yeah,” he murmured, “I know what you mean.  I’ve managed to track down one ship -- _one_ \-- and I know there has to be more.  Hell, I can’t even get an exact location in the Amada System.”

“They’re hiding something,” Garrus decided.  He stood staring out over the Presidium, not quite at the balcony’s edge.  

Alenko’s hands fell back to the table surface and he frowned over at his friend.  “Who is?”

“The Council.  The Spectres.  C-Sec.”  Garrus sighed, shaking his head before turning back into the office interior.  “I don’t know, _some_ one.  I’ve never run into this much red tape before _after_ being told I would have access to it.  We _know_ something happened and we _know_ they’re bringing the _Normandy_ back here.  It makes sense.  But beyond that …?”

“You think they’re doing this on purpose?”  A soft beep from the ante-room behind him alerted Alenko to another message and he rose from his seat to check.  “The Alliance I can sort of understand it -- the whole security level thing has been in place for centuries.  With Anderson serving as Councilor now and not active in the ranks --”

“I would think they would give him _more_ access to it because of that,” Garrus interjected.

Alenko snorted softly.  “There’s a history behind that,” he explained.  “At least, back on Earth.”  He pressed a series of buttons to enter his access code into the computer.  “Back during the twentieth-century.  Tensions were rising between the United States and  Japan, and the powers that be within the US military had broken the Japanese code.  They knew that Japan planned an attack before it happened.”

Garrus, mandibles working in a thoughtful manner, took a seat.  “And?”

“Well, the US President, Franklin Roosevelt, ended up being denied access to the details,” Alenko continued.  “At least for a time.  Something about how the documents were secured, I think?  Anyway, that’s just one example.  There have been others since.”  He shrugged.  “Whether it’s due to politics, opinions or whatever, you run into it at times and it doesn’t always make …”  His voice trailed off as he read the screen before him.  “Shit!  Okay, we need to get Anderson up here.”

Garrus rose and joined him.  “What is it?”

“I’ve got a ship name -- not the one I had before -- and an ETA.  They’re on their way here.  Alliance is going to use the Citadel as a staging area for what comes next, I guess.”  He checked his omni-tool then pressed a few buttons.  

“Hmm.  Makes sense, I guess.  The Citadel’s large enough, there’s been Alliance traffic in and out.  Get C-Sec to assist with keeping things quiet.”  He’d had a brief message from Executor Pallin stating that the docks would be sealed off from anyone but Alliance personnel once the ship arrived.  “What is that human expression?  Keep it all --”

“‘Hush hush,’” Alenko finished for him while nodding.  “Proximity is better too, I suppose, especially if there’s injuries.”  

The doors to the office opened behind them and Alenko turned to find Anderson walking in.  

“Must’ve been nearby,” Garrus murmured quietly.  Alenko nodded his agreement

“What have you got?” the councilor asked.

Alenko straightened.  “Sir, they’re coming in on the _SSV Shasta_.  It’s a newer Alliance dreadnaught, commissioned in the past year, and specced with all the newest technology.  Last report estimated it should arrive at the Citadel about …,” he glanced at the console and pressed a button, “2130 tomorrow.  Err, I mean tonight.”

“I will confirm with C-Sec that the docks will be cleared of anyone except Alliance personnel,” Garrus offered.   

“Thank you,” Anderson replied.  He ran his hands over his face and sighed.  “Any further word on what happened?”

Alenko shook his head.  “They’re being surprisingly silent, sir.  There’s the usual chatter, as if they were out on a normal deployment, but nothing specific regarding the side trip to the Amada System.”  He shared a quick look with the turian.  “They’re running as silent as possible while conducting a search and rescue, sir.  It’s almost as if they’re worried about being overheard.”

Anderson scrubbed his face with his hands.  “That would be about right,” he muttered almost absently, “from what little I’ve been able to find out.” There was a gravity to his features that left Alenko slightly antsy for reasons he couldn’t quite explain.  It also wasn’t what Alenko expected to hear from him, and he wasn’t able to hide it fast enough as the councilor’s eyes found his.  Sharp, hardened, silencing.  Swallowing tightly, Alenko simply nodded.  Rank had its privileges, so the saying went, but he also knew the opposite to be true, too.  Whatever the councilor knew probably came from sources he couldn’t speak aloud in that room.   _Probably Sparatus or Tevos,_ he mused silently.   _And to tie them specifically to an Alliance/Spectre op, even if Council approved …_

“Alright, we can’t do anything until later today.  I’ll keep the comms monitored for any additional information, but you two need to get some rest.  Plan on meeting me here at 2100,” Anderson told the both of them.  “We’ll go and greet the _Shasta_ together.”

Garrus blinked.  It was his turn to be startled.  “You’re including me, sir?”  According to what Pallin had told him, the only non-humans being allowed anywhere near the _Normandy_ crew, at least at first, were two of the turian engineers who had worked on its construction.

If there was humor to be found in such a serious moment, Anderson did and chuckled softly.  “Including you, Vakarian.  I’ve no doubt your former crewmates will be glad to see a familiar face when they make it to port.  Two, no doubt, will be better than one.”

 

~ n ~

 

The first fifteen hours passed as the previous four days had: slowly, as if sands in an ancient Earth hourglass trickled through one grain at a time.  When the time finally came to meet at Anderson’s office, it nearly tripled in its slowness, and aggravated all previous signs of trepidation that had been churning in Alenko’s gut since the news of trouble arrived.  

They still had no word of what exactly happened, and that was starting to eat away at his calm.  Standing out in the Councilor’s lobby, his brows narrowed as he reconsidered.  He knew nothing about the state of the _Normandy_ other than it had sent a mayday signal; nothing about the condition of her crew except that Alliance Command launched a huge search and rescue op under radio silence.  He had no way to evaluate just how severe the situation was except for the fact that a dreadnaught, a cruiser and multiple SAR specialists had been quietly redirected to the Amada System.  Granted, the _Normandy_ was a one of a kind, state of the art ship.  That the turians weren’t involved in the rescue operations was a bit of a surprise to that end, mitigated only by the fact that two engineers would be part of the interviewing team on the crew’s return.  

Beyond the three facts they’d had pretty much from the start, there was absolutely _nothing_ to go on.  The ship had issued a mayday signal.  The ship had been in the Amada System.  Their original mission was to clean up last remaining geth hotspots and look out for strange happenings as to why other ships in that sector had gone missing.  While that might not have been general knowledge to the public, it wasn’t exactly classified either.

Alenko inhaled deeply, slowly releasing his breath through his nose with his eyes closed.   _Absolutely no reason to worry_.   _Right._

The swoosh of the door behind him indicated Garrus had arrived, and a moment later Anderson exited his office to join them.  “Come on,” the councilor said, then led the way out of the embassy.

This time of night, the Presidium was calm and quiet, the only disruption coming from keepers, cleaning crews, and the few C-Sec patrols that swept through every hour or so.  Even Sha’ira’s chambers were closed, still shuttered despite the progress made in cleaning up the Presidium after the battle.  The unusual state of emptiness did little to reassure Alenko as they descended to the elevators leading to the Wards.

The atrium just outside of C-Sec Academy was no different. There was a bit more activity here, of course.  There had to be with C-Sec’s offices housed inside the Academy.  But as they passed by, Alenko still could not shake a growing sense of unease.  Whether that had to do with the time of day (or night, in this case), the added security measures since the Battle of the Citadel, or the complete and utter lack of detailed information regarding the _Normandy_ , Alenko wasn’t certain.  A quick look over at Garrus only added to this feeling as Alenko caught the fluttery movement of the turian’s mandibles, as if he, too, was disquieted.  

A lone C-Sec officer stood beside the elevators, stepping aside and ushering them in when they approached.  The doors closed, and Alenko immediately noticed the lack of music. While normally an annoyance or at the very least the butt of a joke, some canned music or news reports made up of non-news would have been reassuringly ordinary. Instead, the silence was jarring, unnerving him even more.

Security was in place and tight when the doors opened, but Anderson’s presence eased things considerably.  On the far end of the platform, the _SSV Shasta_ was already docked.  Sitting perpendicular next to it was a shuttle transport waiting to take the majority of the crew to a secured location for medical exams and debriefings by Alliance personnel.  

“Come on,” Anderson murmured as he started forward.  

Alenko found it curious that from the moment he stepped out onto the docking platform, the distance to the end, to where the crew was being escorted off the _Shasta_ , suddenly seemed to take on a whole different aspect.  Narrowing to something like the tunnel vision he would experience with his migraines, each and every person walking off the ship and onto the dock passed before him individually.  He recognized many of them by face alone, having served for so many months aboard ship with them, but it wasn’t until the end that he started seeing people with whom he could say he had a relationship of some sort.

Tali, limping slightly and hand securely wrapped around her Alliance escort.  Behind her was Liara.  The asari was being led as well, and when she turned her head slightly, Alenko noticed the bandage wrapped around the left side of her head.  There was a short gap after her, but it soon became apparent why when he found Dr. Chakwas assisting Chief Williams.  The Chief’s leg was wrapped from foot to knee in a walking boot.  On one hand she was carrying a pair of crutches, but on second glance he realized the doctor was speaking to her.  If the grim determination in the doctor’s look meant anything, Alenko suspected she was reading Ashley the riot act, likely for not relying more on her crutches.  Even from this distance he could see the harsh crease of pain tracing the outer edges of the Chief’s eyes and lips.  Behind them, being escorted off the ship on a mobile litter by two medical assistants, was Joker.  Alenko winced.  If the others were so severely injured, just what had happened to the pilot?  Vrolik’s Syndrome could add more than just aggravation to injury.

“Where’s Shepard?” Alenko murmured.

“Both of them,” Garrus added.

Anderson led them to the gathering group at the end of the walkway between dock and ship.  Williams was the first to notice them; Alenko barely heard a gurgled groan escape past her lips.  From one minute to the next, the relative silence was broken by a half dozen voices calling out to Anderson, Alenko and Garrus, all of them urgently beckoning them closer, all of them showing signs of stress and shock.  

In the chaos that followed, Alenko was only able to gather one thing: Something had happened to Shepard.  Which one, he wasn’t sure.  Too many voices were talking over the others for him to determine exactly what was wrong, but with both of them absent it wasn’t difficult to determine it wasn’t good.

 

~ n ~

 

_One foot in front of the other._

From the time John had learned to walk, it had become a silent mantra in his head for the difficult times.

_When Jane went missing when they were teenagers and he’d found a way to go after her._

_Basic training, during the long marches and overnight field ops._

_The busted arm during N-School that had nearly cost him his chance to become N7._

_Hobbling back on a broken leg to find medical assistance after the attack on Elysium._

_The weeks and months of separate assignments, of working apart from his best friend and wife, and finding a way to the next opportunity for them to be together._

_Ache_ didn’t begin to describe the vast emptiness filling his chest right now.   _Hollow_ didn’t cover the size and scope.   _Numb_ was more than just the state of his mind and heart.

“Commander?”

John blinked, eyes slowly coming to focus on the ensign near the hatch leading off the _Shasta_.  

“Do you require an escort, sir?”

_Escort_.  The injuries he sustained on the mission weren’t physical like Williams or Liara.  He could walk, limp, crawl if he had to. Twice while they awaited the SAR teams, Dr. Chakwas had reminded him of his position.   _You have suffered loss, commander, but so has this crew.  Don’t lose yourself to that.  They are depending on you to get them to safety.  Get us home, then we can help you heal._  Eyes closing briefly to fight back the tears that wanted to slip free, he shook his head.  “No,” he rasped, “I’m good.”

_One foot in front of the other._

The walkway could have been ten miles long for all he knew, it still took as long to reach the end of it.  Each step, every footfall, took him further away from where he wanted to be.  The problem was, there was no way to get back there.  Ever.

“Commander!”

John groaned internally when he heard Garrus’ shout.  It was enough to narrow his focus on the small group waiting on him, however.  Among their number he also spotted Alenko and …  “Anderson.”

The Councilor stepped away from the group, advancing three steps in John’s direction.  “Shepard.”

He took a risk lifting his eyes to meet his mentor.  Practically a second father to him and Jane, Anderson would be able to read what John could not voice just yet.  

One glance told Anderson all that mattered. Moving to the side he gestured with his hand, his voice soft. "Come on, son."

Ahead of him, John finally dared looks at Alenko and Garrus.  Alenko, being human, was easy enough to read.  He could be as stoic as the next person, John knew that from serving with him before, and he could hide the pain of a migraine when he needed to.  Now was not the moment he chose to do so, and it nearly broke John to witness his friend’s concern.  Garrus was more difficult, being turian, but the small flutterings at his mandibles, the crease of his eyes, and the way Tali stood close to him, arm patting his forearm, told him enough.  Now they all knew.  

“Commander Shepard?”  One of the Alliance security detail stepped forward.  “We need to get you to --”

“I’ll handle this, lieutenant,” Anderson broke in, waving off the officer as he guided John away from the ship.  

Once assured they would have at least the semblance of privacy for a moment, Anderson asked, “Can you tell us what happened?”  

John blinked, aware suddenly that only Anderson, Alenko and Garrus were next to him. Further back, but not too far, were the rest of their crew, Doctor Chakwas poised with her ever watchful eye on him, as alert and attentive as any mother bear to her cubs.  “Talk to Joker for details,” he rasped.  “Something … a ship belonging to an unknown enemy attacked.  It …”  He shook his head, bewilderment at it all compounded by the loss of Jane leaving him struggling for a moment.  “Their weapon -- it carved through the _Normandy_ like a hot knife through butter.”

“But how?” Alenko whispered in shock.  “Wasn’t the stealth drive engaged at the time?”

John nodded.  “Everything was normal, running smooth, then …”  He shook his head again, wincing at memories of the chaos that followed, desperate to push back the small bubble of dread moving closer to the surface.  “We … we evacuated.  We _had_ to.”

“Relax, commander,” Anderson said quietly, his hand rising to pat at John’s shoulder in reassurance.  “If the ship was being torn apart like you suggest, you were right to abandon her.”

“It … just …”

“Excuse me, Councilor?”  Dr. Chakwas stepped over to intervene.  Her hand rose and she pressed a button on her omnitool, running her scan over John.  “I’m going to have to insist the commander come with me.  He is still under medical supervision and --”

Garrus and Alenko immediately stepped to the side to give the doctor room and him room to move.  “Of course, doctor,” Anderson agreed.  As they started walking away, he called out one last question.  “Commander, where is Jane?”  

John’s steps came to such an abrupt halt he thought he might fall over from the suddenness of it.  Breathing was difficult.  His heart rate was too fast and the ache that had started since hearing of Jane’s fate grew tenfold.  The doctor’s hand tightened on his arm.  It was all that was holding him up just then.  

“She’s … gone.”  

 


	5. Chapter 5

John Shepard was a man of focus, of determination.  He knew how to get out and get a job done in the most efficient and expedient manner possible.  It was part of what got him noticed for ITC and certainly guided his years as an N7.  It was a trait both he and his wife shared.

_Had shared.  Past tense._

Hand rising, John slipped his index finger between his neck and collar of his dress uniform, widening the space there.  And though by touch alone he knew it wasn’t physically constricting, it was incredibly difficult for him to swallow just then.  

Cleansed of all obvious signs of debris and destruction after Saren’s attack, the Presidium was now closed off for a more specific purpose.  Open and airy, the brightness created to resemble daylight was almost too bright from where he sat upon the dais.  In a ceremony reminiscent of the one held on Arcturus Skyllian Blitz, and despite the more somber reasons for this gathering, John understood that while the location might be different, one stage was just like any another.  

_And Jane didn’t like the first one._

John sat front and center even though the deeds currently being regaled to those gathered were connected to him by association.  His purpose today was not just to represent himself, nor his half of their previous whole, but the entirety of their unit called _Shepard_.  In the aftermath of the attack, Jane’s body had never been found.  Lost to the vacuum of space, he knew the chances had been slim to none that it would be found.  Instead, there was large photograph of her, framed and resting on a stand in front of the podium.  It was her service photo and one John knew she hated, but the only one appropriate for the occasion.  Seated as he was, he couldn’t see it, thankfully.  Yet, in the blank numbness of his mind and heart, he understood the importance of his today.  They shared the same name.  The same rank.  They served together on the same ship.  Fought the same mission together.  He was a living and breathing reminder of her.

The sea of faces at the memorial was much more varied than the last time, too.  A number of species were represented, many both he and Jane had come to know over the years.  Asari, turian, salarian.  The Council was present, a fitting tribute for her service as the first human Spectre and Savior of the Citadel, but there were others present as well.  Sha’ira, the asari consort.  Barla Von, the volus financial advisor and agent of the Shadow Broker.  Dr. Chloe Michel.  Detective Chellick.  Officer Eddie Lang.  The Elcor ambassador, Xeltan.  Doran, the owner of Flux.  John wasn’t certain how much of their reason for being present was curiosity versus honest appreciation of Jane’s efforts on their behalf, but in the end he supposed it didn’t matter much.  She’d made an impact on them all, and that was what counted.

Anderson rose to speak.

_Anderson_.  He, aside from John and John’s parents, both of whom were in attendance, probably had known Jane best.  Thanks to Anderson, Jane was able to escape the Tenth Street Reds and enlist in the Systems Alliance before turning eighteen.  He had a hand in guiding Jane’s career, steering her in the direction of ICT after her heroic actions at Elysium.  And along with Ambassador Udina and Admiral Hackett, he’d helped push Jane’s candidacy to become the first human Spectre.  His words would be strong, sincere, and most definitely heartfelt.  

Which was why John could not focus on them.  It was just too much to deal with right now on top of everything else.

Still, that didn’t mean he was ready for what would come next.  Upon entering the Presidium earlier, he’d seen the honor guard practicing; a mix of Systems Alliance, N7, and Spectre representatives.  An old style salute based loosely off the twenty-one gun salute tradition on Earth.  Following that would be _Taps_.  It was going to kill him to have to listen to it, but the song was one near and dear to Jane’s heart, especially after the passing of both her parents while in service themselves, and John was determined to have things done as she would want it.  As she _deserved._

_I will make it through this_ , he told himself as everyone rose to their feet.   _I will make it through this, through the reception to follow, through whatever comes next.  I will make it because Jane would want it that way._

The words, the _order_ he gave himself did little to abate the sharp sting that came along with the first lone echoing notes of the trumpet …

 

~ n ~

 

“Skipper’s going to Arcturus after this,” Williams said quietly.  “Something about cleaning out their apartment and putting stuff in storage.”

Standing next to her, Alenko nodded.  “I know.  He’s coming back to the Citadel.  He’ll bunk at my place until he figures out what he’s doing next.”

She looked over at him.  “We can’t let him go alone, LT,” she said.  “No one should have to face that kind of thing on their own.”

“You’re going?”

“I think we both should.  They might not have been together as long as my folks, but there was no way in hell my sisters and I were going to let Mom go through Dad’s stuff all by herself.”  Williams shuddered.  “In the end it was bad enough with the five of us together.”

Alenko nodded again.  “They’ve known each other for fifteen years,” he murmured somberly.  “Long enough.”

Williams nodded.  “Yeah, long enough.”

 

~ n ~

 

“Your father and I are going to visit the cabin for a week,” Hannah informed John.  “Will you come with us?”

_The cabin_.  John recalled the place in the Rocky Mountains Jane had loved staying at for the holidays over the years with his family.  His heart ached at the thought.   _So many memories._  “I … I can’t, Mom.  Not yet.”

It wasn’t disappointment that filled her eyes with his reply, John noticed, as much as it was sympathy concern.  She’d loved Jane like a daughter.  So had his father.  The loss of Jane had to be hard on both his parents, too.

A gentle but firm and loving hand clasped at his shoulder.  “Son, --”

John turned to his father unable to hide a pained expression.  “Maybe someday, Dad, but not yet.”

 

~ n ~

 

“I’m a little surprised Liara isn’t here.”  Garrus’s sharp eyes searched the crowd, surveying everyone present for any sign of their asari friend.  “Didn’t she say she would be?”

Tali’zorah shrugged.  “All I know is she received a message.  Must’ve been an important one.  After that, she was gone.  Poof!”  She wiggled her fingers in a manner suggesting a puff of smoke.

Joker sighed.  He stood near the wall, half leaning on his crutches and half using it for support.  He had one eye on Chakwas on the far side of the reception area who kept darting concerned looks over at him, and the other on the Shepard who remained.  The one who hadn’t spoken to him since Alchera.  “Must’ve been _really_ important to pull her away from all of this,” he commented dryly.

“Dr. T’Soni was a hard one to figure out,” Garrus said, “but I know she respected the commander.  Both of them.  That’s why I’m surprised.”

“I wish Wrex was here,” Tali’zorah admitted.  “This is too … too …“  She wrung her hands together, clearly struggling for the word she wanted.

“Too serious?” Garrus offered.

“Sort of,” she agreed.  The abrupt push of air through her filters sounded like a sigh.  “All I know is Wrex would know how to _really_ honor the commander’s memory.  This is like a --”  Her head swiveled to face Joker.  “What’s that human phrase?  ‘A room of stuff filled with shirts?’”

Joker nearly choked on a laugh, momentarily forgetting his concern regarding the doctor.  Or the other Shepard.  “A room filled with stuffed shirts,” he corrected her.  

“Yes, that.”  She nodded for emphasis before her attention was caught by the turian councilor walking by.  “I wonder how long it will be before I’m chased off the Citadel again, now that Shepard doesn’t have my back …?”

 

~ n ~

 

“Commander.”

John inhaled slowly, deeply, before turning.  “Dr. Chakwas.”  He didn’t feel much like it, but he attempted to smile.  “Thank you for being here.”

Her smile looked as somber as his felt.  “Your wife was quite the leader.  Strong.  Compassionate at times.  Intuitive.”

John nodded.  “She was all of those,” he agreed.

“She certainly knew how to bring a motley crew like ours together,” the doctor continued.  “It was an honor and a privilege to work with her.”  She looked directly at him.  “With you both.”

John blinked.  For the first time all day, someone had turned their focus to include him directly.  It was a little disconcerting and caught him off guard.  “I’m sorry?”

Her smile softened and she reached out to pat his arm.  “The two of you were a team, commander,” she reminded him.  “A cohesive unit.  Jane might have had the Spectre rank and you the responsibility for the _Normandy_ , but when most people think of ‘Commander Shepard,’ what they’re really thinking of is the two of you.   _Together_.  As time passes, as the wounds begin to heal and you reenter the world around you as a soldier and as a person, you may find yourself faced with unexpected challenges and expectations because of that.”

John frowned.  “It’s been years since Jane and I were on the same mission,” he pointed out.  “This was the first since … our honeymoon, really.”

“I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that, while you both retained your individuality -- one that could be seen among the crew as well as between yourselves -- your reputation is more … well, blended, for lack of a better description.”  She shook her head slightly.  “All I’m saying is that people -- both within the Alliance and outside of it -- may think you capable of things that _you_ think she was the one capable of doing.  Just … be aware of it, that’s all.  And if you need someone to talk to …”

Sighing, John nodded.  “I … think I see what you mean,” he admitted after a long pause.  “And I will keep your offer in mind.  Thank you.”

The doctor smiled up at him.  “I am grateful for the opportunity to have served with you both,” she said.  “I wish only that it could have been longer.”  

“There’s always a chance …?”  He was hedging, he knew it, because he had bereavement leave coming for a few weeks more before he would be reassigned.  As of yet, he had no idea, or interest, really, just what that assignment would be.  He doubted he would get another ship anytime soon, which only made it tougher to give the doctor any reassurances now.

“It’s alright, commander.  Just promise me you will stay in touch,” she said.  “That will be enough for now.”

“I will try,” he promised.  

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, everyone! I'm doing my best to get back into writing updates! I have a couple prepared for this story, but with the Holidays I may get delayed. (We also have two new kittens that have joined the family who are in constant demand of attention! LOL) Never fear! This story will get told!

She’d always heard when death was at your doorstep there would be light.   _Follow the light.  Go towards the light._  

But all Jane remembered was the fade to black, a shift from the chaos of her ship disintegrating around her to complete and utter darkness.  There was panic at first as she fought to keep breathing, but eventually that gave way to a state of unknowing floatiness and quiet.  It resembled consciousness, but at the same time it didn’t.  Awareness of her surroundings was lost beyond that.  

Until _The Change_.

She eased her way back to semi-awareness in a manner that was gradual and subtle.  It was difficult to discern a starting point, but oddly enough as it progressed she quickly realized there were no shades of grey in between.  One moment she was enveloped in a dark blanket of nothingness, and the next her senses were being overwhelmed with bright light, vibrant color and overwhelming scents, smells and tastes to the point of numbness.  To say that it was a shock to her senses would be an understatement.  Time, however, was suddenly a mystery.  Perpetual in nature but nonexistent just the same.  

Jane blinked, hand rising to shield her eyes, but it did little to protect from pain that radiated through her head, excruciating in its intensity before searing its way through the rest of her body before leveling off as a dull ache.  An afterthought, really, like the echo of a bad headache long after its gone but the memory of the pain remains.  

_Am I dreaming?_  

Jane discovered over the years that dreams had a certain level of reality to them, providing a reference or framework by which she could make comparisons.  Somewhat similar to memories, the only real difference came when the dreams incorporated elements of fantasy.  What she knew her heart _wanted_ as opposed to what actually had happened.  Usually at that point, she was able to force herself into a state of consciousness and leave it behind while in the waking world.

At the moment, she had no framework whatsoever.

The brightness levels around her soon evened out, or maybe her tolerance of the pain grew.  Either way, she was able to lower her arm and take a better look at her surroundings.  But where she expected to find _some_ thing, she instead found nothing.  It was empty.  Blank.  Stark.  All were accurate, yet not.  She was in the center of some sort of vast nothingness as far as she could tell, but it was unending.  No edges or walls.  No sense of distance or space other than limitless.  It was all and nothing at the same time, and she was left feeling unnerved because of it.  Abstraction was something she could handle, but this went even beyond that, and for the first time in _years_ , Jane caught the fluttering stir of fear in her chest.  

Wherever she was currently, she was alone, that much she could determine.  Her head moved easily enough -- no injury she could account for -- but there was quite literally nothing around her to see.  Her gaze moved and she tried looking down -- her hands, her feet, _any_ thing -- but the only thing close to a quantifiable value she could manage was a vague, hazy sense of reality.

_Am I invisible?_

It was a whimsical thought if ever she had one, and only served to back up her theory she was in a dreamlike state or something very like it.  But this was confused as well; neither full dream nor complete memory.  As such she was left with a sensation of being disconnected, of being outside of herself and looking in.  Except that she couldn’t really _see_ anything.  And that was more jarring than she cared to admit.

There was movement, sort of.  Maybe.  It felt like momentum, but it was difficult to judge when her surroundings were all the same shade of bright.  Her inner sense of balance shifted if she tried tilting her head -- first right, then left -- but that, too, felt off.  Direction -- north, south, east, west, up, down, right, left -- was impossible.  Everything looked the same.  Balanced.  Equal.  Trying to find a way over, under, through whatever it or this was became impossible to determine.  There was absolutely nothing around to define anything other than the brightness.

It was terrifying as all hell.

 

~ n ~

 

Like the current state of her surroundings, Time had no meaning for Jane.  There was no way to determine how long it had been bright or compare that to how long it had been dark before that, in order to give her a sense of Now and When. She thought she was awake; she certainly didn’t recall falling asleep.  But when _The Change_ came it was as jarring as if she was woken by the screaming of an alarm clock after staying up most of the night studying for a final exam.  Bone jarring.

From one blink of the eye to the next -- or maybe it was the beat of her heart since she wasn’t sure if she’d been blinking or not -- the steady stream of _bright_ wavered.  Shifted.  Like the curling and rolling of a wispy fog, color began to form and differentiate.  Edges.  Definition.  Hints of outlines evolved into shapes where before there had been nothing but a blur.  

Glancing down, Jane found that she, too, had definition.  Her body, hale and whole.  A relief unlike any she’d ever felt before washed through her …

… until her eyes lifted and she spotted the scene ahead of her.  Familiar faces long lost to memory appeared as the differentiation of colors and styles settled.  Her heart lurched, thumping wildly in her breast even after so many years of separation.

_“Mama!”_

The petite, red-headed child with vibrant green eyes was as familiar to her as any quick glance in a mirror would provide.  Pale, creamy complexion dotted with a mass of freckles and two pigtails that curled as they hung long down her shoulders.   _Energetic_ didn’t come close to describing the aura spreading outward from her, but it brought a fond smile and long forgotten memories to Jane.

A taller woman, darker complected and with a thatch of short brown waves matched Jane’s last recollection of Sarah McIntyre.  Her dark green eyes sparkled with life.  Jane swallowed tightly, overwhelmed for the moment with the love a child always had for their mother.  That special bond dating from conception through birth and beyond gave them.   She was perhaps a bit younger than Jane readily recalled, but Sarah opened her arms wide to scoop the child up close into a snuggling hug in a move that Jane would never ever forget.   _“How’s my girl?”_

_“As curious and adventurous as ever,”_ a deep baritone rumbled, hand rising to ruffle at twin ponytails the child wore.

Jane froze -- or would have if she could, but the scene continued to unfold around her -- at the long forgotten tones of the man she called father.  

_“Daddy, stop!”_ Young Jane squealed, twisting in her mother’s arms in an attempt to get out of range of his fingers.

_“Steven, let her be or I’ll drop her!”_

She laughed -- she couldn’t help herself -- and Jane watched him take her younger self, lifting her high in his arms over his head.  The love and joy that suffused his face as he stared up at her was something she’d forgotten over time.  Never had she doubted he loved her or her mother, but not having it openly displayed on a daily basis left it a hazy recollection at best, and never fully remembered.

Her parents were speaking, but Jane lost the trail of words until Sarah reached into one of Steven’s pockets. _“Read it,”_ he encouraged with a wide grin before settling young Jane on his shoulders.

Sarah pulled it free and opened it, reading, “ _You are hereby ordered to report to ICT …._ ”  The paper slipped from Sarah’s fingers, floating gently down. _“You made it?  They want you?”_

_“I did.”_

_“Made what?”_ Young Jane asked while leaning forward and bending over to stare in her father’s eyes upside down.   _“How?”_

He made a silly face at her and she giggled.   _“I have to go away for awhile, munchkin.  For some special training to make me a better soldier.”_

Sarah looked torn, something Older Jane did not recall from that time.  Over the years that followed, she had assumed her mother supported Steven McIntyre’s bid for N7 training without question.  But now, witnessing her reaction from afar, she had to wonder.  Fear was evident, but there was pride, too.   _“You … are sure about this?”_

Steven nodded, a move that he exaggerated to bounce Young Jane on his shoulders which sent her into squeals of laughter and a mad scramble to find something to hold on to. _“This is a good move for us,”_ he promised.   _“The best.”_

Jane kept her eyes glued on him.  On the pride and love that shone from his eyes as he watched Sarah for her reaction.  On how his hands caught Younger Jane around her ankles to hold her in place so she wouldn’t fall.  This was a man who would have done a anything for his family, even give his own life.  And he had...

The vision which had been so clear one moment began blurring in the next.  Jane’s heart lurched and she desperately tried to reach out, to catch both her parents in her hand, to hold them close so she would not lose them again.  But details faded quickly, leaving only the vaguest hint of shape and form before disappearing altogether into the swirling mist.  Still, it didn’t leave her time to panic or worry.  As one scene faded, another developed in its place.  This one more somber and nearly two years after the first.

_“What happened?”_

Jane’s gaze caught and recognized the color scheme and decoration of the living room of the apartment in Rio they’d rented.  While Steven trained, Sarah still served shipside, Jane with her, but occasionally they were able to break away for a visit.

Only this visit wasn’t one of the good ones.

_“An accident,”_ the Systems Alliance officer whose name Jane couldn’t remember explained.   _“An equipment failure that --”_

Sarah’s green eyes darkened two shades as she glared over at the man.  Young Jane, now eight, sat beside her, confusion marring such young and innocent features.   _“Do not take me for a fool, Captain,”_ Sarah spat.   _“I may not know the details of Steven’s mission, but I now when I’m being fed a line!”_

_“I’m afraid I can’t give you anything more, lieutenant.  You aren’t cleared for --”_

_“So clear me!”_

He shook his head.   _“Even if I could, I wouldn’t.  Trust me, ma’am, you will sleep much easier this way.  Just remember, your husband died saving the lives of many others ….”_

Still separated from the scene around her, Older Jane winced.   _Duty always comes first, munchkin_.  She could almost hear her father’s words echoing around her.   _Protect and defend those who can’t for themselves._

_“Mama?”_  Older Jane’s lips moved to form the words though it was Young Jane who put voice to them.

The officer departed leaving Young Jane and Sarah alone, huddled together in the center of the room.  Sarah pulled her daughter close.   _“It’s okay, Jane,”_ she whispered, dropping to a knee and pulling her daughter into her arms.   _“We’ll be okay.”_

Young Jane pushed back, too somber eyes for someone so young staring widely at her mother.   _“Daddy isn’t coming home, is he?”_

Sarah hesitated, clearly struggling.  Her face was easy enough to read, though, even for a child.   _“No, Jane, he isn’t.  I’m so sorry.”_

Young Jane tilted her head slightly to the left and Older Jane imitated the movement unconsciously.   _“Did he protect the people?”_

Sarah nodded, burying her face in her daughter’s hair.   _“He did, sweetheart,”_ she managed even as her voice cracked.

Pain sliced through Jane’s chest at the memory.  She recognized in her mother’s expressions some of the same fears and emotions John displayed years later on Arcturus when Jane was going through her N7 training.  Being married to a soldier was a risk, one she’d always accepted.  It went along with who and what she was.  Perhaps it was harder for people like John and her mother who hadn’t suffered such a loss before.  Jane frowned.   _Or maybe it’s just me, too cold-hearted to feel anything beyond a basic sense of duty first before loss._  

Around her, Jane noticed the mist beginning to shift and swirl once again.  Colors faded.  Defined edges of shape blurred.  The brightness returned to the steady levels of before, but along with it the sense of nothingness.   

 


	7. Chapter 7

The room was like the others on the space station.  Same size.  Same shape.  Same neutral color scheme and basic decoration that all such places had.  There was little to designate uniqueness or individuality.  Or, in this particular case, that proved John and Jane Shepard called it home.  There were a few things that were specific to them, of course, but for the most part anyone entering and looking at the place would not realize it was a _home_ as opposed to just a living space between missions.

Unmoving, John Shepard stood in the center of the living room with eyes unfocused on the wall ahead of him.  His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm indicating he was there, _alive_ , but little else in his behavior spoke well of the situation.  Behind him, Williams murmured anxiously to Alenko, “ _Do_ something!”

Alenko pulled his eyes from his friend and darted a quick look over at her.  “What?” he asked quietly.  He was at much at a loss as she was on what to do next.  They’d both lost a commanding officer, a friend, and now another friend suffered because of it.  What _could_ they do?

The apartment had little but the bare necessities in it, which would make the packing up easier and certainly faster.  On the other hand, it would make _what_ they would be packing that much more personal.  Alenko was fully prepared for this to be a gut-wrenching and painful chore, in all senses and meanings of the words.

“Skipper …?”

John either didn’t hear Williams or he chose to ignore her for the time being.  Alenko’s gaze drifted to look around the room, searching for some way, _any_ way he could help his friend through what was no doubt the most devastating time of his life.  His eyes came to rest on a small frame resting on a small shelf on the wall above the vid screen.  It looked to be one of those old fashioned shadow box frames.  He caught a hint of color inside, a flashing glint of polished metal, and clarity followed a moment later.  Jane Shepard’s _Star of Terra_.  That might be a start.

Crossing the room, Alenko reached for the frame.  But before his fingers connected, a bellowing roar from behind him rumbled throughout the room.

“Skipper, wait!”

It was the only warning Alenko received, but it was enough.  Instinct triggered his biotic barrier in the same motion that he slid sideways a couple steps just as John’s hands reached out towards Alenko.  There was a wildness in the man’s action fueled by grief and anger as he snatched the frame from the lieutenant’s grasp.  Though startled, Alenko understood what was happening and why well enough that he didn’t try to stop the commander or defend himself.

Williams hurried over.  She paused beside Alenko, her hand touching his shoulder and tightening briefly in question.  He nodded, waving her off in assurance that he was okay.  Turning, she then took a tentative step towards Shepard.

John’s eyes locked onto the medal inside of the case, memories washing over and through him.  The day he and Jane met so many years before when he barrelled into her aboard the _SSV Einstein_.  Her brilliant smile when they graduated basic training together.  Abject terror mixed with intense pain and pride on Elysium while on their honeymoon as he watched her run off to finish the job they’d started together defending the colony against batarian slavers.  Jane’s embarrassment (she always hated being the center of attention) and irritation at the pomp and ceremony because of those actions and the resultant awarding of the _Star of Terra_.  The pure unadulterated joy in her eyes the day she achieved her rank of N7, proudly displaying her new colors to him afterward.  There were other moments bombarding him as well, but it was this last that stuck with him longest.  With another roar of grief, this one fueled by weeks of denial, he launched the frame across the room.

Williams lurched forward, catching Shepard beneath his shoulders with her shoulder and murmuring quiet words of comfort as he fell to his knees.  It was early days still, much too early for her words to serve as more than a reminder he wasn’t alone in his pain and loss.  He crumpled, crouching over and curling in on himself in the process.  After his outburst, he stayed silent, though the violent shaking of his shoulders indicated the level of his distress.

Alenko, feeling rather extraneous at this point, quietly crossed the room to examine the damage.  Though not a biotic, Shepard was strong and the frame had shattered upon impact with the wall.  It now lay on the carpet in a tangled mass of metal, glass and fabric.  The frame itself was bent out of shape and beyond repair.  The glass that had covered the front was broken into several larger pieces and multiple smaller ones.  In the middle of the mess was tangled a disheveled blue silk ribbon which, when traced around, looped through the actual _Star of Terra_.  Gingerly, he pulled this free, tucking it into his pocket for safe keeping before he started cleaning up the remaining debris.

He heard a movement behind him and glanced over his shoulder to find Williams assisting Shepard to his feet and down a hallway towards the back of the flat.  For the moment, he let them be and returned his attention to the destroyed frame.  Carefully, he gathered the debris, but his hand hesitated, a frown creasing his brows, as he caught sight of something unexpected beneath it.  Pushing the debris to the side, he fished out an OSD, micro in size but at first glance it appeared undamaged and fully functional.  There was writing on it, and squinting he could make out a series of letters and numbers.   _K-SB-C-21.9.83_.  After a few minutes, he tucked it into the pocket with the _Star of Terra_ for later and more thorough examination.  Scooping up the remains of the frame, he went in search of a place to dump it.

Afterward, still no sight of Williams nor Shepard since they left the room, Alenko traced their path to the rear of the apartment.  Though lying on his side with his back to the door, Alenko could see Shepard was easier than he’d been for weeks.  Williams, seated on the edge of the bed, carefully rose to join Alenko near the doorway.  “What’s up?” she asked in a soft whisper.

Alenko fished out the OSD and showed it to her.  “How’s Shepard?” he asked, nodding towards the bed.

“He finally sacked out.  He’s running on next to nothing at this point, so hopefully he’ll stay out for a while.”  She ushered him out of the room and closed the door behind her.  “What’s this?”

Alenko shrugged.  “Good question.”  He turned the device so she could see the writing.  “I found it hidden inside the frame when I cleaned up the mess.  Mean anything to you?”

Williams squinted at the tiny print.  “Nope,” she replied immediately then hesitated as if rethinking her answer.  Tilting her head to the side, she added, “Though, those numbers almost look like they’re written in standard Alliance date notation.”

Alenko nodded.  “That’s what I was thinking, too.”  He pocketed the OSD with the _Star of Terra_ once more.  “I’ll look into it in more detail later.”  He paused a moment to run his hands over his face.  “We just need to get their stuff here packed, right?”

“Yeah.  Skipper said something about putting the commander’s things into storage here on Arcturus and taking his stuff to the Citadel,” she replied.  

“Well, we’ve got plenty of packing and shipping crates in the other room,” he told her.  “Let’s get started on this for him.  No disrespect to either of them, but the sooner we get him out of here, the easier it will be for him.”

Williams sighed heavily.  “Yeah.  It’s gotta hurt.  No sense making him go through this part if we can get it done.”

 

~ n ~

 

Adjusting to a new roommate wasn’t difficult.  Alenko and John had been friends for several years now, and this last mission had only brought them closer.  Like family.  Brothers in arms and spirit … and loss.  Because of this, it was no surprise when Alenko offered John the extra room in his apartment until he could figure out what his next steps would be.  Though he didn’t mention it to Shepard, Alenko was a firm believer in that no one should have to suffer through grief alone, and it certainly beat staying at the Alliance barracks on station surrounded by strangers.

Though small like most residences on the Citadel, the apartment absorbed Shepard’s presence quickly and easily enough.  He had a few weeks left of his bereavement leave, but with Alenko working for Anderson during the days John was left with plenty of space to himself.  It was the nights where things got tricky and occasionally too crowded, both physically and mentally.

“I should just stay at the barracks,” John muttered, rubbing absently at the sting in his elbow.  This hadn’t been the first time he’d gotten up close and too personal with the wall when he and Alenko were trying to navigate the narrow hallway at the same time.  “These halls are worse than on the _Cairo_.”

“Hah!”  Alenko grinned over at Shepard, a quick memory flashing into the forefront of his mind.  “You say that now, but remember that last time?  Do you think Stein is still holding a grudge?”

Snorting, half in wry amusement, John shrugged.  “He was the one who chose to duck between those steam pipes.  I offered to wait and let him pass,” he countered.  

Alenko sighed.  Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he made his way to the couch and sat down.  “I’d still keep half an eye watching out for him,” he suggested.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so peeved before.”

“Blisters’ll do that to you,” John said while echoing the lieutenant’s actions.  He dropped into a nearby chair.  “Besides, he wouldn’t dare.”

Alenko lifted a brow.  “You think not?”

Sitting back, John lifted his hand and ticked his fingers as he countered.  “A: I out rank him and he knows I’d bust his ass down the chain if he so much as tried.  B: I’m N-7 and he knows that, too.  If he’s smart enough, and aside from that one blunder I’ve no reason to think he isn’t, he knows better.”

Alenko snorted.  “When did that ever stop him from shooting off his mouth?”

“He can shoot off his mouth all he wants.  Truth of the matter is, he’s all bark and no bite.  Not when it comes to stuff like that,” John said.  “Remember, he values his career.  Besides, he makes a great staff lieutenant, leading the rest of the troops into battle, but that’s probably about as far as he’ll go.  He might make it as far as staff commander, but that’s about it, and I think he even realizes that.”

A buzz at the door interrupted their conversation and Alenko rose to answer it.  “Hey, Ash,” he greeted Williams as she entered.  “Want a beer?”

“Nah.  Actually, I’m here to take you both out.”  She moved to stand in the center of the living room, hands on hips, smug grin at her lips to match the wild, mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Alenko shared a look with Shepard who shrugged while taking a drink from his bottle.  “A few more details might help, Gunnery Chief,” Alenko replied.

“And that’s where you’re wrong, LT,” she said with a wide grin.  She reached into a pocket and pulled out a small datapad which she tossed at him.  “Read it.”

Alenko caught the device easily enough.  Pulling up the screen, he scanned the message there.  He lifted his head in a sharp movement, surprise catching him, and tossed the datapad over to Shepard while responding, “No kidding?  That’s great!”

She flushed a little, but nodded.  “It’s not effective just yet, Anderson told me, but it’ll be official as soon as it can be processed through.”  She sighed, a little of the joy fading as she added more quietly, “The commander kept her word.”

John set his bottle aside and pushed himself to his feet.  Handing Williams the device, he nodded somberly.  “She said she would do it,” he reminded her, his voice rough as if fighting off a wave of emotion.  “And I agreed with the decision one-hundred percent.  We both signed off on it before leaving the Citadel that last time, and even Command has difficulty ignoring recommendations from two N7s.”

Williams nodded, pocketing the pad again.  “I know, and I appreciate that, Skipper.  It’s just ...”  Her voice trailed off for a moment, her eyes taking on a blank stare.  Sighing, she added, “It’s been such a long, hard fight with so little to show for my efforts, I guess I never thought it would happen.  Not really.”

“Operations Chief is a big step,” Alenko interjected, “but a _huge_ step in the right direction and  one that’s well deserved.”

Shaking her head, Williams straightened to attention.  “Right.  Which is why I want to treat you both to a drink tonight,” she added.  “Don’t know if we’ll all be able to get together once it’s really official, and since we’re all here now, and we all know it’s going to happen …”  She shrugged.  “So, what do you say?”

“Count me in,” Alenko replied.  He glanced over at Shepard as Williams turned towards him.  Both had expectant looks, though neither would push.  They’d both agreed on that back at the apartment on Arcturus.  They would invite and encourage Shepard to go out now and then, but they wouldn’t push, and that had little to do with the fact he was their superior officer.

It was on the tip of John’s tongue to refuse, to beg off, but he surprised himself when he heard himself reply, “Sure, why not?”

“Great!”  Williams’ face broke back into enthusiastic excitement once again and she bounced on the balls of her feet.  “I’m thinking that new place down in the Wards, the one that opened last week.  That okay by you?”

“Works for me,” John agreed.  He set his bottle on the kitchen counter as he followed her out of the apartment.  Alenko joined them a minute later.  “You sure you’re up to this?  You’re not on the official Operations Chief payroll yet, you know.”

Chuckling, Williams nodded.  “I know how to save up my pennies, Skipper, don’t worry.”  She winked over at him.  “Just keep it at one drink and I should be able to handle it.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

“ _Uh, you can get up now._ ”

Older Jane smirked at the memory, but her heart lurched a little, aching at the familiar voice.   _John_.  Their first meeting had been awkward, to say the least.  Thanks to the inaccurate directions of a deck officer who could have cared less about a new civilian on board, she’d ended up lost and bowled over for her troubles.  But out of that had evolved a long lasting friendship and, eventually, marriage.  A ‘happy accident,’ her mother called it at the time.  Jane liked to think Sarah McIntyre would have approved of what came later.

“ _Are you okay?_ ” Teen Jane asked.

Teen John nodded.  “ _All_ g _ood.  Next time, though, you might want to look first?_ ”

Teen Jane offered her hand and helped him to his feet.  After a few more minutes of verbal sparring about who was to blame and why, John finally showed her to the cabin she and her mom would share.  Over the following days and weeks aboard ship, she discovered he was only a year ahead of her in school and he knew several of the other kids their age.  They grouped together, tightening ranks and becoming close as kids in such situations did, but of them all Jane grew closest with John.  

The scene shifted again, something Jane was getting used to even if she still didn’t quite know where she was or why this was happening.  When it settled again, she discovered she was still aboard the _SSV Einstein_ , but this time she and John were sitting in his room in his parents’ cabin.  Jane, since she was the guest, was seated on his bed and John was on the floor.  The bed was roughly made but serviceable enough.

“ _So,_ ” Teen Jane asked, “ _how’d you get caught?_ ”  Older Jane snickered softly.  It didn’t take much for the memory of this occasion to return with ease.

“ _I didn’t have you watching my back,_ ” Teen John groused.  In irritation, he kicked his foot out to hit the edge of the bed.  

Older Jane recognized the smugness in the tilt of her younger self’s lips.  “ _I told you it wouldn’t work, you know._ ”

Teen John’s scowl darkened.  “ _Still had to try._ ”

“ _No you didn’t.  You could have waited until I was free.  Going in alone, without backup, left you a prime target and you knew it.  What was the point of going alone?  What were you trying to prove?_ ”  Teen Jane sighed with dramatic emphasis.    “ _Now you’re grounded and I’m going to have to lead Devon, Lena and Vince during our gaming session this week. You know I hate that._ ”

Teen John’s eyes rolled.  This wasn’t the first time they’d had this discussion.  “ _Why?  You’re a good leader.  Better than me at times._ ”

“ _But this isn’t leading_ ,” she countered.  “ _This is storytelling.  When we’re in the middle of a game, my character leads --_ ”

“ _No, you lead,_ ” he insisted.  He scooted over to lean his back against the side of the bed, head tilting toward her.  Teen Jane lay flat on her back, head hear the edge of the mattress and faced him, their eyes meeting.  “ _There’s a difference.  Your character is just … well, she’s you._ ”

Teen Jane smiled.  “ _You’re silly,_ ” she told him.  “ _Besides, you’re the one who’s planning to join the Alliance, not me.  Why do I need to know how to lead?_ ”

Teen John shrugged, the movement just enough to bump his shoulder gently into her temple.  She scowled and pushed at him.  “ _Why not?  You’d be good at it._ ”

Teen Jane shuddered.  “ _Maybe, but I don’t know that Mom could take it.  If something went wrong, I mean._ ”  She sighed heavily.  “ _It was bad enough with what happened to Dad.  If something happened to me --_ ”

Teen John straightened and turned to face her fully.  “ _My mom says you can’t live life by ‘what ifs.’  That’ll just handicap you._ ”  Teen Jane shrugged and he reached out a hand to grasp her hand firmly in his.  Squeezing it, she looked at him again and he said, “ _Ask yourself this: what do_ you _want to do?_ ”

Teen Jane’s head moved back and forth.  “ _I don’t know.  I’m only just sixteen, remember?  I don’t have to decide yet._ ”

“ _Never hurts to plan ahead,_ ” he said.  Leaning over, he nudged her temple with his nose and she giggled.  It was habit, them sitting like this and goofing around, but the topic this time was more serious than usual.  “ _Imagine it -- if we enlist together, we could end up serving together on a ship like this, or planetside, or …_ ”

A ding chimed from Teen Jane’s wrist and she pushed herself up.  “ _Gotta go,_ ” she told him, reluctance clear in her voice.  Older Jane winced.  She recalled all too clearly what came next.

Teen John sagged back against the bed, deflating.  “ _So soon?  You’re the only one Mom would let me see._ ”

Rising to her feet, Teen Jane gave him an apologetic smile.  “ _I know.  She said something about how maybe I’d set your feet on the ‘right path’ or something,_ ” she admitted.

Teen John groaned.  “ _And you didn’t bother to tell her that the idea was yours to begin with, did you?_ ”

Teen Jane grinned.  “ _Nope.  Besides, Mom and I are going to make pizza tonight._ ”  Her tongue sneaked out to run across her lips, the idea clearly one she’d been waiting for.   _“A mother-daughter thing.  It’s been awhile since we did something like that.  She’s been promising this for a long time._ ”

Pouting as only a teenager can, Teen John pulled one leg up to his chest, wrapping his arms around it while leaving the other extended.  “ _Fine.  Go have your pizza_ ,” he grumbled.

Teen Jane smiled softly, her eyes remaining on him for a long moment.  When she didn’t move, he looked up at her and she winked.  “ _I’ll save you a piece for later_ ,” she promised…

Older Jane noticed the scene begin to smudge along the edges.  Removal this time was painful not because she wasn’t allowed to see the rest of it, but due to the fact she _KNEW_ what came next.  There was a hope, as the edges and definition blurred around her, that she would be spared …

_Hope springs eternal_ …

“ _But … Mom, you promised!_ ”  Flashing lights and blaring alarms were the least of Teen Jane’s worries in that moment.  And it all seemed as if her mother didn’t care.

“ _Jane, you know I have to go_ ,” Sarah said as she washed flour from her hands at the sink.  The pizzas were only half made, and now it seemed they would never be finished.  “ _I have to go.  You know as well as I do my duty to the Alliance comes first!_ ”

Pouting, Teen Jane slammed her fist on the table, shaking the bowl and cookie sheets and sending a small puff of flour into the air from the tabletop where she’d been kneading the dough.  “ _For months now --_ ”

A voice interrupted across the shipwide PA system, cutting her off and the teen’s eyes narrowed.  It was irritating in more ways than one, but at the moment all she cared was that it was pulling her mother away from her.  “ _Mom!  This was supposed to be OUR time, not the Alliance’s!_ ”

Sarah turned towards her daughter on the way to leave the chambers.  “ _Honey, I’m sorry.  I promise, when I’m back we can --_ ”

“ _But you promised NOW!_ ”

Sarah shook her head, apology clear in her eyes though the teenager refused to see it.  Older Jane wished she could stop the scene before her, like a vid, and just stare at her mother in those last moments for a long, long time.  If she’d only known back then this was the last time she would see her mother alive, she would never have argued as she had.  Now, separate from the teen she’d been then and seeing things from a distance, she recognized sorrow in her mother.  Sarah loved her duty as an Alliance soldier, Jane always knew that, but in this one moment, she wondered if Sarah might not have wished she no longer served.  Times hadn’t always been easy for the two of them, and this pizza-making ‘date’ was an effort on both their parts to try to heal the distance that had grown between them over recent years ….

“ _I’m so sorry, Jane …._ ”

The edges softened around the scene, but they didn’t entirely blur away this time.  When they settled again, Older Jane recognized they were still in the McIntyre quarters.  The lights were dimmer than before indicating only a few were turned on, and there were others present.  Teen Jane herself was curled up on the sofa, a pillow hugged close to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around it.  She looked to be clinging to it for dear life.   _Perhaps I was_ , Older Jane mused as her eyes settled on her younger self.  

Beside her, John’s mother sat with an arm around Teen Jane’s slender shoulders.  Occasionally, Hannah would murmur something soft, something reassuring, but Teen Jane never responded.  Behind the sofa, John paced back and forth.  His father, Thomas, had been on the same mission, but he was currently on duty.  Hannah had been relieved of hers so that she could be with Jane for the time being.

“ _Why?_ ”

Older Jane winced.  The confusion in the teen’s voice was nearly as strong as the pain.  

“ _I wish I had a good answer for you, Jane_ ,” Hannah murmured, “ _but the fact is, I don’t.  You know as well as I do that your mother knew the risks involved.  She was willing to take those risks to protect people.  Innocent civilians, like you._ ”

Teen John paused his pacing and growled at his mother, “ _It isn’t fair!_ ”

Hannah sighed.  Glancing over at her son, she found his eyes filled with compassion and concern as they focused on his friend.  “ _Life rarely is fair, John, you know that._ ”

“ _What will happen now?_ ” he demanded, finally facing his mother.  “ _She’s going to be sent away, isn’t she?_ ”

Hannah nodded.  “ _Your father mentioned something about a grandmother on Earth …_?”

Older Jane’s shoulders trembled as did Teen Jane’s.  “ _My father’s mother,_ ” the teen whispered.  “ _I … I don’t remember her …_ ”

Eyes closing, Older Jane’s thoughts drifted back to her arrival on Earth, to the meeting with the grandmother she hadn’t seen since she was an infant.  They hadn’t been given much time, but over the six months or so they had come to a sort of understanding.  Grandma Susan had tried and Teen Jane had given it her best effort, in the end.  

“ _She can’t go to someone she doesn’t know!_ ” Teen John insisted angrily.  “ _Why can’t she stay with us?_ ”

“ _John --_ ”

The scene faded once more, this time for good.  It took a long moment for Jane to realize it wasn’t going to shift into another, and she was grateful for that.  Grief she’d long thought dealt with sat heavily on her chest and she wasn’t certain she could take anything more right now ...

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2018! Thank you all so very much for reading and following! I will do my best to keep up with the weekly posting date, but this is the last prepared chapter I have at the moment. It all will depend how busy I am at work this week as to whether I have one on time next week! LOL Ah, well, I'm committed to telling their story, so it'll show up eventually, if not always on Mondays! I promise!

During the days, or what passed for days aboard the Citadel, while Alenko was off working with Councilor Anderson and Williams was doing whatever it was she was doing John split his time between lying about the apartment or wandering the Wards.  Alenko’s duties were the same as just after the Battle for the Citadel.  There was safety in knowing that, in a strange sort of way, John thought.  Probably why not knowing what Williams was up to bothered him so much.  The only thing he knew for sure was she was around the Citadel somewhere doing something for the Alliance.  

As for himself, John knew there was a danger in both options he faced.  He tried to keep it a fair balance, but the weeks of bereavement leave he’d been given seemed to stretch unendingly ahead of him.  There was no concrete timeframe for him just then.  He recalled a song Jane once played for him, something about having too much time on their hands, but only now did he fully realize what the words meant.  He was a man used to rules and regulations, to structure and routine.  These days, that was gone, and therein lay the danger.

Alone, John was lost to his thoughts.  His memories.  Times that he no longer could joke with his wife about -- like the time he’d tried to hack his way into one of the engineering sections aboard the _SSV Einstein_ and gotten caught because she wasn’t with him.  Over half a lifetime of memories they’d shared, both good and bad.  Hell, he’d have traded them all in if it meant he could get Jane back beside him.  They could always create new memories.   _Together_.  But alone with just his thoughts and memories could, and often did, start a downward spiral for him.  The ache left behind with her absence was as tangible as the pain he’d suffered in his leg during their honeymoon on Elysium, only this time he wondered if it would ever fully heal.  At times he was almost separate from himself, watching as the dangers in secluding himself like this, in allowing his thoughts or at the very least tempting them to keep up with this spiral, tried to take hold.  It wasn’t that he wanted it to happen.  Depression was a vicious beast.  Deceptive.  It could sneak up when he least expected it and grasp hold so tightly no amount of effort could break free from it.  He’d witnessed it in others over the years, wondered at it.  How could they face the days, so lost and alone.  He wasn’t so much surprised that it had found him now, when he was at the lowest point he’d ever been in his life, as much as he was shocked at just how easily it had pulled him in.  Mentally, he recognized it.  Clearly saw the signs.  Knew he needed to do _some_ thing.  After all, he’d made a promise to a multitude of people beginning with Dr. Chakwas and his mother and on down the line that he would do his very best to avoid following that spiral.  But knowing it, _seeing_ it, was one thing.  Fighting against it was another and oftentimes too damned difficult to put much effort into such a battle.  Thankfully, the realization that he was headed down that path became obvious to him sooner rather than later, but still the fight to break free was tougher than he expected.  But he’d promised, and he was a man of his word, and so John tried to balance that time, that loneliness, with some spent outside of and away from the apartment.  It was the only way he could think to combat it.

And still, it wasn’t enough.  In many ways, this was more dangerous than the other.  He was out and about, moving around and facing social interaction, of a sort, but here the pain was more evident, stronger.  There was nowhere he could go on the Citadel that he was not reminded of his wife on a constant basis.  He wandered through the Presidium gardens and walked by restaurants they’d frequented together.  He stared out over the lakes and groaned at the bad elevator music they’d both commented on time and again back in their cabin aboard the _Normandy_.  Every corner, every turn, every nook, cranny and place he looked, John saw her.  It began innocently enough during a visit to the Presidium when he caught sight of a woman out of the corner of his eye as she left the embassies one afternoon.  Turning sharply, he walked after her, chasing her down only to realize it wasn’t her but someone of the approximate height and build.  Hair color was wrong.  No freckles across the bridge of her nose.  No Systems Alliance, but the uniform of a civilian contractor.  A hint of red hair had the ability to make his breath catch in his chest.  The sound of a laugh, so like hers, could freeze him in his tracks.  After weeks of this it was still no better than the first empty days.  

_How much longer do I have to take this?_

 

~ n ~

 

“Sir?”

Anderson glanced over at Alenko.  He was seated at his desk, rummaging his way through the usual daily paperwork associated with his position, when he heard the younger man call over to him.  “Yes, Lieutenant?”

Alenko turned away from the edge of the balcony of the embassy office and joined him a moment later.  “Is there nothing we can do for him?”

It didn’t take much effort to discern what, or in this case _who_ , the lieutenant was talking about.  “Lieutenant Commander Shepard?”  Alenko nodded.  Sighing, Anderson rose.  “Is he out there?  Again?”

Alenko nodded again.  When Anderson started toward the balcony edge, Alenko accompanied him.  The younger man lifted and arm and pointed in the direction of one of the memorial gardens below.  Anderson narrowed his concerned gaze upon his young protege.  “How many times does this make?” he asked quietly.

“Third this week,” Alenko acknowledged.  “He needs something, sir.  I’m not sure this extended bereavement is a good idea for him.  Shepard’s more used to routine, structure.  This extra time is not helping him at all.”

“Hmm.”  Anderson leaned over, resting his arms against the balcony rail.  “I think you may be right,” he mused quietly though his eyes remained on John.  “How is he otherwise?”

“Sir?”

“At home, when you or Williams are around him, I mean,” Anderson clarified.  “What’s he like when he’s with you?  Any signs of … desperation?  That he is working his way through it, or not?”

Alenko was quiet for a long minute.  “He’s had nightmares once in awhile,” Alenko finally replied, “but nothing that I’d call ‘out of the ordinary.’  He isn’t talking like he wants to go off on some suicide mission or anything like that.”  Alenko shrugged.  “Sir, I’ve known him about five years now, give or take, and from what I’ve seen during that time, I wouldn’t say he is acting any more ‘out of character’ than he might if he, for example, came back from a mission that went bad.  He’s grieving, yes, but he isn’t …”  Alenko sighed.  “It’s pointless to say he isn’t dwelling on it when we both know he is.  She was his wife, after all.  But I wouldn’t say it’s more than might be expected for someone who lost a spouse like that.  Not that I can tell, at any rate.  Maybe Williams can tell you more --”

Anderson chuckled.  He wasn’t certain if the lieutenant or Williams was aware he’d made the special request to keep them here on the Citadel to help Shepard or not, but it didn’t really matter.  Their purpose was being served, that was all that was important.  “She already has,” he said.  “She’s pretty much in agreement with you, from what I can tell.  She also thinks he might do better if he was sent back out to the field.”

Alenko shifted his feet.  “I was about to suggest that myself,” he acknowledged.

Pushing himself straight again, Anderson nodded.  “Alright, Lieutenant.  Thank you for your input.  I’ll take it from here.  Just -- don’t say anything to him yet.  God only knows how long Command will take to act on this suggestion.”

“I wouldn’t think it would be too long, sir,” Alenko said.  “They’ve already given him his psych eval.”

“I heard,” Anderson replied.  “Dr. Chakwas did us a favor with that, insisting she was the only one who would be able to tell if John was giving her honest answers.”

Alenko chuckled.  “She’s pretty sneaky when she wants to be.”

Anderson grinned over at him.  “Indeed she is, son.”

 

~ n ~

 

“Fancy meeting you here like this, Skipper,” Williams quipped as she entered the reception area outside of Anderson’s office.  

John’s smile was a wry one, but it was a smile.  “I could say the same about you, Chief.”

Williams grinned, plopping down onto the sofa next to him.  As she sat, her hands smoothed out the folds and wrinkles of her uniform.  She might have made Operations Chief finally, but she wasn’t about to ease up on the level of attention she paid to herself, her uniforms, her armor or weapons.  There was no guarantee she’d make it any further, and the way she saw it, that was definitely the case if she loosened her standards now.  She also wasn’t about to let the Commander, memory or not, down like that.  Not after she went to bat for her and, as a result, the entire Williams family.  Nope, she figured she owed the Commander her very best and nothing less, and that meant for her _entire_ career.  Now that she had one.  “The only one missing is --”

The door to Anderson’s office slid open and a familiar shape joined them.  “Come on inside,” Alenko greeted them.  “Anderson wants to see us together.”

John chuckled softly as Williams murmured, “Well, shit!” beneath her breath.  

Anderson greeted the three of them upon entering and guided them over to the small conference area where there was a table they could all sit at.  “You’re looking good, Shepard,” he said by way of greeting, extending a hand towards John.

John shook it heartily.  In a brief flash, he was reassured.  The comfort and familiarity of being dressed in BDUs took the edge off what he’d feared might be too much of an aching memory with Jane’s absence, and being around friends, including Anderson, certainly helped.  “Thank you, sir,” he replied.

All seated, Anderson told them, “I know these past few weeks have been trying for the three of you, but I could really use your help if you think you’re up to it.”  He pushed three files across the table, one to each of them.  “It would mean you coming back on duty sooner rather than later.”

As Williams and Shepard took theirs, Alenko reached for his though he kept his eyes on Shepard.  Anderson has asked him for an honest appraisal of the Commander’s reaction to the new assignment, and he was ready to evaluate and give it.  

John, unaware that he was currently under observation, flipped the file open and started reading.  Beside him, he caught the movement of Williams’ file as she did the same.  Alenko’s followed soon after.  Skimming through the information, he made it through the first pass quickly.  When he reached the end, his brows narrowed in concern and just a hint of a flutter of discontent stirred in his chest.  “Sir?”  He darted a quick look over at Anderson who nodded at him.  Eyes returning to the file, he read it through for a second time.  This pass provided a few more twinges in his chest in the area around his heart, but, he noted, alongside it an unexpected fire awakened.  

“Sir?”  Williams’ voice broke through the silence.

“Yes, Chief?”

Frowning, she glanced quickly between Alenko and Shepard before turning her full attention to Anderson.  “These are just the reports from the _Normandy_ ’s crew after she went down,” she pointed out, blanching a little at the absurdity of how obvious her words were.  “I mean, what are we supposed to do with them?”

Anderson nodded.  He darted a quick look over at Alenko who gave him a subtle nod, then leaned across the table towards the three.  “The Council isn’t quite sure what to make of what happened out there,” he explained, “and as you can see from the reports of your fellow crew members, there isn’t much to go on.  My counterparts are ready to dismiss this attack as something left over from the geth --”

John scowled, eyes darting up to meet Anderson’s.  “That’s bullshit and you know it!” he hissed.  “Sir!”

Anderson nodded.  “Whatever it was that attacked you was _not_ the geth,” he agreed.  “Based off these reports and several first hand discussions I had before reassignments were initiated, I agree with that much.”

John glanced first at Williams, to his right, and then at Alenko, on his left.  Both nodded at him.  “What exactly is it you want us to do, sir?” he asked Anderson.

Anderson smiled.  “I want you three to look into this further for me.  See what you can come up with,” he said simply.

Sitting back, John considered the Councilor’s words.  They were a directive of sorts, but for what?  _Something isn’t adding up here._   _Something involving Saren, Sovereign and the geth and whatever it was that attacked us.  Something the Council as a whole doesn’t want to get involved with._

“Sir,” Williams interjected, apparently sharing similar thoughts, “the Commander already informed the Council about the Reapers and Sovereign during our mission.  Isn’t that enough?”

Sighing, Anderson shook his head.  “As the weeks have passed, I’ve noticed that they, especially Councilor Sparatus, are leaning towards the idea being a ‘myth.’”

John’s scowl darkened.  “Sovereign wasn’t a myth.  The Reapers aren’t a myth,” he growled.  “We saw them, faced them in battle first hand!  Sovereign might have been the only one this time, but what about the intel we got from Vigil on Ilos?  They are very real and still a threat!”

Anderson nodded.  “Which is why I would like you to look into this more for me.  Find me proof.  Find me solid evidence I can give to the Council so they won’t just sweep it under the rug.”

“And Alliance Command?” Alenko asked, for the first time speaking up during the discussion.  “What do they think?”

Anderson shrugged.  “That’s more difficult to tell these days,” he admitted.  “There are a few, including some names no doubt familiar to you, who believe what you found is true.  Others aren’t so … agreeable, shall we say?”

“We can’t let this die!” John insisted.  Setting the file on the table, he rubbed his hands over his face.  He was tired -- tired of being tired, of fighting the spiral of depression and feeling alone left behind with Jane’s death.  He wanted, _needed_ a purpose again, and one that she had fought for certainly was worth the effort to his way of thinking.  “Alright, I’m in,” he agreed.

“Me too,” Williams piped up.

There was a brief silence and John glanced over at Alenko.  “What about you?”

Alenko’s gaze drifted between John and Anderson.  “I have duties for the Councilor,” he said.

“I was thinking,” Anderson told John, “that you and Williams could do the legwork.  Alenko can help out from this end as needed.”  He smiled widely.  “Never hurts to have a highly placed contact, don’t you think?”

John snickered softly.  “That’s one way to put it, I suppose,” he agreed.  Inhaling deeply, he filled his lungs and held it for a long moment.  

Anderson added, “And Alenko is in the unique position of aiding with the cleanup of Saren.  Anything that might come up from his end of things can go straight to you,” he glanced at the lieutenant, “ _if_ it’s relevant.”

Alenko nodded.  “Understood, sir.”

“Can we get in touch with the crew?” Williams asked.

Anderson shook his head.  “Doubtful,” he replied.  “They’ve all been reassigned.  There are a few you might be able to reach -- Dr. Chakwas is one, Joker another, perhaps even Adams -- but Command did a good job of breaking you up and scattering you all to the winds after the destruction of the _Normandy_.”

“What about the data readouts before she went down?” John asked.  “Can we get access to any of that information?”

Anderson shrugged.  “I’m not sure what survived, to be honest,” he admitted.  “You were pretty far out in the Traverse when the attack hit.  My understanding was the connection between the _Normandy_ and Alliance wasn’t that strong to begin with.  You know as well as I just how iffy Extranet connections can be that far out.”

“Maybe,” Williams said, “but I know Joker was backing them up on a regular basis.”  When all eyes turned toward her, she shrugged.  “He asked me to help him once.”

“Alright, I can start there,” John announced.  “Chief, see if you can’t reach Joker and Adams.  Maybe they can add something that isn’t in these records.  I’ll reach out to Dr. Chakwas.”

“I can help you locate them,” Alenko offered.

Nodding, Anderson rose to his feet.  The others immediately stood at attention.  “Good.  Any problems, you come through me, understand?”

“Sir, you’re a great contact for Council things, but what if we need an Alliance contact?” John asked.  He gave the man an apologetic look.  He knew good and well from Alenko how Alliance Command was trying to cut Anderson out of his normal military loop.

“Admiral Hackett,” Anderson replied with practiced ease.  “I think between the two of us you should have all the access you need.”

John nodded.  Admiral Hackett was a good point of contact for a number of reasons, not the least of which John and Jane both had kept him in the loop during the whole Saren/Sovereign mission.  “Understood, sir.”

Their meeting broke up and as Williams and Alenko started toward the door, Anderson said, “Shepard, hold up a moment please?”

John waited until they were alone.  “Sir?”

Anderson lifted a hand to John’s shoulder and squeezed.  “Son, I don’t want you pushing too hard.  I know things have been rough for you of late, and --”

John shook his head.  Lifting the file between them, he tapped it against his other hand.  “This is just what I need, sir,” he insisted.  His lips twitched at the corner, but he continued.  “It gives me something else to focus on.”

“And if it takes you down a path where the memories of Jane are too much for you?” Anderson countered.

John paused, considering that for a moment.  “Well,” he replied, “it can’t be any worse than what I’ve been going through to this point, can it?  And this way, at least I know I’m trying to carry on something she was working on and believed in.”  He sighed heavily.  “That has to count for something, doesn’t it?”

Releasing his hold, Anderson nodded.  “I can’t argue with you there, Shepard.  Alright then, good luck.”

John gave his mentor the first genuine smile he’d been able to manage in weeks.  “Thank you, sir.  We’ll keep you informed.”  

 


	10. Chapter 10

From a distance, Older Jane could witness the signs of nervousness in her younger self as she stood just outside the door to Susan McIntyre’s flat.  At the time, she hadn’t thought much of it, still numb and suffering from the loss of her mother and, as a result, her best friend.  The Alliance officer accompanying her smiled encouragingly when the door opened and introductions were made.  Older Jane could, now at least, appreciate the effort the officer made, though it meant little back then.

The weeks that followed were filled with change, challenges, and the usual difficulties associated with such upheaval.  Watching them pass as if sitting in a theater viewing a movie was odd, but the emotions brought forth were just as powerful now as they had been the first time.  

“ _Why don’t you come out and sit with me for a while?_ ” Susan McIntyre asked as she stood in the doorway to Teen Jane’s room.  “ _You always hide yourself away in here._ ”

Teen Jane shrugged.  Lying on her bed and staring at the ceiling, the move was nearly lost among the folds of the thick, flowered duvet beneath her.  “ _What’s the point?_ ” she asked.

Susan sighed.  “ _Well, for starters we could get to know one another better_ ,” she offered.  “ _I have stories of your father from his childhood I could share with you._ ”

Groaning, Teen Jane rolled over onto her side.  Older Jane recalled the dampness that bled into the duvet as tears leaked unchecked.  The idea hadn’t exactly been repulsive, but it had brought back painful memories of her father and losing him when she was younger.  Still, her parents had raised her to be polite, especially to family and friends, and Teen Jane instead of dismissing the idea replied, “ _Not now …_ ”

Teen Jane and her grandmother barely had six months to get to know one another before the older woman passed away unexpectedly.  During those six months, however, a strong bond was eventually finally forged.  Funnily enough, it came in the middle of a typical teenage argument …

“ _Can you tell me what happened?_ ” Susan asked.

Teen Jane shrugged.  “ _I failed a test.  What more is there to say?_ ”

Susan, standing in the front room while the teenager halted as she walked by the entryway, moved a few steps closer to her granddaughter.  “ _Did you study for it?_ ”

Again the teen shrugged.

“ _Jane, your previous grades show a high interest and aptitude in this sort of thing.  You’ve taken pride in that before.  Why would you just let it go like this?_ ”

Older Jane recalled the overwhelming sensation of being at her wits end.  Her grandmother trying so hard to reach out to her, to make a connection, to help pull Jane from the depths of her personal despair, but as a teen she refused it all.  

Until she couldn’t any longer.

“ _I was given to understand that you and your father shared similar interests in electronics and --_ ”

“ _JUST STOP!_ ”  The pain- and anger-filled cry was accompanied with a movement of her arm.  Older Jane reached out with her left hand and ran it down the length of her right forearm, the memory of the unexplained prickly sensation running along the skin all too real.  “ _I am not my father nor am I my mother!  Quit trying to turn me into something I’m not!_ ”

Susan frowned, folding her arms across her chest.  “ _Jane, you need to calm down --_ ”

“ _I don’t need anything!  Not you!  Not this place!  Not --!_ ”  

With each statement, shouted at the top of her lungs like if prisoners desperately escaping a containment cell, Teen Jane swiped her hand in front of her for added emphasis.  The prickly sensation surged, skittering up her arm, making the hairs on her skin rise straight off her skin, and eventually spreading to cover her entire body.  Older Jane recalled how startled she was by it, of feeling out of control and like she would explode for no reason she could think of.  A second or two later, it all came to a head in one bright flash of light and energy.   

When the dust settled, Teen Jane was on the floor with no clear recollection of falling there.  A nearby chair was transformed into a pile of broken wood and ragged, torn material lying beside her, and Susan, kneeling in front of Teen Jane, eyes wide with shock and concern as they warred each other in her blue eyes.  “ _Jane?  Are you alright?  What was that?  What just happened?_ ”

The teen shook her head, fear and surprise leaving her shaking.  When Susan reached out to touch her, she scooted backwards out of reach.  “ _Don’t!_ ” she, more desperate plea than anger or resentment any longer.  “ _I … I don’t want to hurt you, too!_ ”

Tears filled Older Jane’s eyes as she watched her grandmother close the distance without hesitation.  In that one moment, Susan pushed aside fear and anger and dismay and cared only for the shaken child sitting before her.  It was that which finally reached through to her teen self, and in the few weeks they had left together, cemented the familial bond.  “ _I think perhaps we ought to get you into the doctor,_ ” she murmured calmly.  

“ _But … what … what was it?_ ”  Teen Jane stared up at her grandmother.  “ _I mean … it reminds me of … of something I heard Mom talk about, maybe?_ ”

Susan’s eyebrow raised in curiosity.  “ _Oh?  What was that?_ ”

Older Jane recalled a hesitation at this point, a reluctance to put words to it, mostly in fear that it would drive her grandmother from her and leave her alone now that she realized just how much she needed her.  Again.  “ _Mom was in a mixed unit_ ,” the teenager explained slowly.   _“Most were traditional soldiers, but there were two young ones who were biotics.  Something about mass effect energy and using it as a weapon._ ”  She winced, the fear now grasping tightly and making it difficult to breathe.  “ _Grandma --?_ ”

Gently, Susan sat herself on the floor beside Teen Jane and wrapped her arm around the girl, hugging her.  “ _Why don’t you stay home from school tomorrow and we’ll go get some answers_ ,” she suggested.

Older Jane sighed softly as the edges of the scene blurred out.  Darkness surrounded her for a while, but there was movement in soft swirls and Jane knew by now that meant it was still reforming.  

Susan had taken her to the doctor and Jane was confirmed to be a biotic.  A few weeks later, she was given her first implant and a list of possible options to aid her in learning how to use her new abilities.  This also meant rethinking the possibilities for her future.  She and her grandmother spent many of those last days together discussing her options … up until the day Jane came home from school to find a neighbor waiting for her, explaining that Susan had passed away after some problem with her medicines.  

Their relationship had been too new for there to be any arranged contingency plans, and in the shuffle and chaos that followed, Teen Jane eventually found herself out on the streets of London, alone and completely on her own.  She messaged John before leaving, but when she heard nothing back right away, she packed her few personal belongings and left.  She wandered the streets for a few days, finding ways to survive on her own mostly out of pure luck.  She had little money and no place to stay, but a few kind souls helped.  

The second day, she heard back from John.  “ _Where are you?  What will you do now?_ ”

Jane, exhausted and hungry and hiding behind the library to keep out of the cold rain, typed a simple enough answer.  “ _I’m all alone now._ ”  A few minutes later, she was chased away by a local police officer who came upon her.  

Sheer luck guided her steps over the next day and a half until Jane stumbled upon a group of homeless people.  They were standoffish at first, but when they realized she was in the same predicament as them and offered no real threat, they welcomed her into their ranks.  She spent a week with them, picking up a few tricks on survival as well as an unexpected boost forward.

Of the people who offering her shelter, one suggested she make her way about five blocks east.  There she would be in _10th Street Reds_ territory and have a better opportunity to find her future.  When she asked for more information, beginning with who the _10th Street Reds_ were, all she’d received was a tired smile.  She was smart enough to recognize she was being asked to leave.  With little recourse and only the vaguest idea of where she was headed, she grabbed her bag and walked away.

Five blocks wasn’t a long walk, but Older Jane recalled the subtle differences between the neighborhood she walked into compared to the one she’d left.  Almost immediately, the atmosphere surrounding her changed.  The buildings were as old and run down as where she’d come from, but any sense of safety or security disappeared the minute she crossed into _Red_ territory.  It didn’t occur to her to be worried -- she’d been sent here, after all -- but it was a foreign feeling and one that left her just a little uneasy.

From her current position, Older Jane noticed little details long forgotten since that day.  The bite of the cold air as it trickled down the back of her shirt collar into the space between where her short-cropped hair ended and the shirt lay open.  Defined edges of street lights, their glow shining brightly for about ten feet surrounding a lamppost before dropping off sharply to darkness.  The odor of rotting garbage, the hint of ash and smoke, and the bitter acidic scent of something she still couldn’t quite define even after all the years that had passed since.  

Five blocks were soon behind her and she wasn’t sure where to go next except forward so she continued on.  Observing with only the slightest trepidation, Older Jane counted the blocks to herself.   _Six … seven … eight._  She pulled her lip between her teeth, biting down hard at what she knew waited for her on the next.  Not the most auspicious of beginnings, but in the end it blossomed into a lasting friendship.

“ _Jus’ what’re you doin’ alone and in Reds territory this late at night?_ ”

The voice boomed out from the corner at the end of the eighth block.  Older Jane watched her teen self jump, eyes darting around, searching for the owner through the shadows while stammering, “ _I-I --_ ”

Two bodies finally emerged, both larger and broader than her. They took their time, easing their way forward like ooze through a clogged pipe.  Teen Jane squinted to see them, but the lighting was no good and all she could make out were the barest hint of movement.  Slowly, an outline of two shapes was defined.  They were large and imposing, threatening even, and watching her younger self swallow hard to hide her nervousness took Older Jane back to that moment.  

“ _Weston, she’s just a kid_ ,” the second voice advised.  “ _Don’t scare her_.”

Weston snorted, a derisive sort of sound and one that left Teen Jane frozen in place.  “ _Doesn’ mean she can’ be trouble,_ ” he countered.  “ _Coulda been sent by any of our enemies_.”

“ _En-enemies?_ ” Teen Jane managed in a breathless voice.

The second man scoffed and pushed ahead of Weston, breaking into the light.  As he moved toward her, Teen Jane got a better view of him -- much taller and broader than she’d thought, even taller than John. He had a thick thatch of dark hair on top of his head that hung in straggly waves and surprisingly kind eyes.  It startled Teen Jane to realize he was shouldering a weapon as he came to a halt in front of her.  “ _Hi there.  A bit late to be out on the town, don’t you think?”_

Teen Jane, too startled by the difference in attitude between him and his friend, only managed a nod.

“ _You heading home or something?_ ” he asked next.

Teen Jane shook her head.  “ _I … I have no home,_ ” she told him.  She swallowed with difficulty and carefully glanced around him at his companion, Weston.  “ _Everyone’s dead._ ”

Offering a sympathetic smile, he said, “ _Don’t mind him.  Weston’s just on edge because he had to go on patrol with me._ ”

“ _Patrol?_ ”  Jane’s brow furrowed.  Looking at him, she said, “ _You aren’t cops … are you?_ ”

He chuckled lightly, ignoring the less than polite stream of comments Weston was spouting just then.  “ _No, we aren’t cops,_ ” he replied.  “ _What’s your name?_ ”

The teen blinked.  “ _Jane McIntyre_ ,” she replied.

He extended a hand and Jane considered it a long moment before shaking it in greeting.  “ _Name’s Matthews,_ ” he said, “ _but you can call me Mattie if you want._ ”  She nodded and released his hand.  “ _So, no home, hmm?_ ”

“ _No_ ,” she agreed.  If he asked for details, she’d tell him, but she wasn’t about to offer up anything voluntarily.

“ _Then why’re you wandering around out here?_ ”

Teen Jane straightened, her eyes meeting his.  “ _Someone told me I should find the 10th Street Reds_ ,” she explained.  “ _Said with my skills I might fit in better with them than some random homeless group._ ”

Mattie’s eyes rose above her, staring past her in the direction from which she’d come.  “ _Lucky Mike tell you that?_ ” he guessed.

Teen Jane nodded, still curious about the nickname but suspected Mattie would be as unwilling to explain it to her as Lucky Mike himself had been.  “ _Yeah_.”

“ _Shit, Mattie -- we’re not takin’ in another stray, are we?  Vanek’s not gonna like it …_ ”

Again, Mattie ignored him.  It was easy to do since he outranked him.  “ _What skills have you got that could be helpful?_ ” he asked.

“ _Um … I’m okay with tech_ ,” she ventured.  She lifted her left arm and brought up her omni-tool.  “ _I can hack through locks and stuff pretty good.  Program ‘tools.  That sort of thing._ ”

Mattie’s brow lifted in interest.  “ _Oh yeah?_ ”  Half turning, he called over to Weston, “ _Head back and tell Vanek we’ve got a techie for him.  That ought to make his night._ ”  Grumbling and muttering, Weston left.  To Jane, Mattie said, “ _Lucky Mike’s a friend of mine and I trust his judgement without question.  Still, Vanek’ll be the final judge if you get to stay with us._ ”

Teen Jane took a deep breath.  “ _You’re Reds?_ ” she asked.

Mattie nodded.  “ _Yup.  We’ll at least give you a place to stay and food for a few nights_ ,” he promised.  “ _If things don’t work out, I’ve got a couple other places I can suggest you check out._ ”  He eyed her up and down quickly.  “ _You look pretty scrappy, though.  And if you’re as good with tech -- hell, if you can do ANYthing with tech, that’s better than we’ve got now, so chances are Vanek’ll approve._ ”  He turned and politely gestured her to move alongside him as he led her down the street.  “ _That sound fair to you?_ ”

“ _Yeah …_ ”

Older Jane ignored the few tears that escaped the corners of her eyes as the scene in front of her faded.   _Mattie_.  It seemed forever since she last thought of him.  Among all the _Reds_ , he’d been the one to make her feel most like she’d found a home during that time.  She’d never lost sight of who and what he was, of course, but all that aside, of all the _Reds_ , Mattie had been the kindest and most considerate.  Almost like a brother and, she recalled, he’d considered her a little sister.   _Li’l Sis_.  Her nickname returned in his voice with ease and a smile, and the ache of long absence faded just a little ...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I wrote "Destiny Begins," the character of Mattie was the first of the Reds I created. He's stuck with me ever since, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized he was an 'important character' in Jane's background. I may end up writing some more with them at some future date, but for now here's a little more on how they met.


	11. Chapter 11

John entered the apartment, his duffle slipping from exhausted fingers just inside the doorway and landing with a soft thud.  The entryway was dark, but ahead in the living area he could see the faintest hint of flickering light as if the vid screen was on.  Stumbling forward, soft voices drifted in his direction and for a moment he hesitated, wondering if he’d returned home at an inconvenient time.  He and Alenko had never talked about it since John moved in, but the commander knew it was reasonable to expect Alenko had a personal life outside of professional.  On a place like the Citadel, it wasn’t inconceivable that the lieutenant might have company for the evening …  

Especially since John hadn’t thought to message his friend and alert him he was inbound on a flight from Earth.

Soft steps from the direction of the kitchen broke through his thoughts.  Stepping into the room, an apology ready on his lips, he heard, “Welcome back, Shepard,” just before a cold bottle of beer was pressed into his hand.  

Blinking, John looked around the area.   _Empty_.  That was a relief, of sorts.  “Thanks,” he muttered.  He clinked the neck of his bottle against Alenko’s as the lieutenant walked by and took a sip before stumbling the rest of the way over to the sofa.  He dropped heavily onto it but somehow managed to keep his bottle from upending its contents all over him and the furniture.  

Alenko moved over to the cushioned chair and sat.  “Went that well, did it?” he asked with a hint of amusement.

Groaning, John set his bottle on the coffee table before covering his eyes with his arm.  “Christ,” he muttered, “I was never as good at the diplomatic stuff as Jane used to claim.”

Alenko snorted and took another drink, otherwise saying nothing.  It was generally known that Spectre Shepard was more the diplomat, not John, but he wasn’t going to openly agree with his friend’s assessment either.  “What happened?”

“Tracked down two of the _Normandy_ crew -- Sanchez and Markowitz -- who both agreed to talk to me on Earth.  But when I got there, in each instance I found they were shipped out just hours before my arrival.”  He sighed.  “Timing … seemed kind of odd, after what Anderson told us, so I decided to check into it.”

Alenko paused, bottle halfway to his lips.  “And?”

Shepard shrugged.  “I was told, ‘Change in orders.’”

“Ouch,” Kaidan murmured, sympathizing.  He sank back in his chair.  “What about Simmons?”

“Williams was in contact with her, but last I heard was she was ‘out of contact’ too.”  John shifted his position slightly, easing the stress on his shoulders.  “Feels like the royal runaround, if you ask me,” he observed.

“I would have thought your N7 status would carry some weight,” Alenko said.  “Open a few doors that were otherwise shut, get you answers the rest of us couldn’t.”

Grunting in agreement, John added, “I even dropped Anderson’s name a time or two when that didn’t work.”

“What about getting access to the _Normandy_ data?” Alenko asked, diverting the topic.  “Were you able to retrieve that at least?”

“Still waiting to hear,” John replied.  “The commander there wasn’t available and I have to go through her directly, it seems.”  He shrugged again.  “Ah well.  Persistence is supposed to pay off, isn’t it?  Build character?”  The wry smile on his lips openly advertised his opinion of that like one of the neon billboards in the Wards.

Alenko chuckled.  “Stubbornness, more like,” he returned.

Grinning, John sat up so he could glance over at his friend.  “Obviously my end of this mission has been boring and a bust.  How have things been here?”

“Funny you should ask …”

John, who had just reached for his beer, paused.  He turned to face Alenko.  “Oh?”

Alenko leaned forward in his seat, arms resting across his legs as his bottle dangled between his fingers.  “I reached out to Garrus last week.  We’ve been staying in touch every few weeks or so for months now, ever since I was assigned to help with cleanup after the battle here,”  John nodded, “and I thought maybe he might have some ideas, even if we only discussed it in vague terms.”  Shepard nodded again.  “Usually all it takes is a call and an agreement on time and we both meet at this little out of the way bar down in the Wards he used to frequent when he was at C-Sec.  A couple of drinks, some friendly chat, then we move on about our business.”

John snickered.  “Trading intel?” he guessed.

Alenko smiled.  “You know me too well.”

Shrugging, John replied, “I know you both too well.  So what was up this time?  The keepers stealing secrets from the volus embassy or something?”

Alenko blinked then grinned.  “Good one,” he murmured around a laugh, “but no.  This time … This time, nothing.  I couldn’t reach him.  It didn’t bother me at first --”

John frowned.  “At first?”

“Four days in a row I tried to reach him,” Alenko explained.  “Fifth day I called, someone else finally picked up.  They didn’t have a clue where Garrus was.  Said he just up and left about two and a half weeks ago without a word to anyone.  One day he was here, on the Citadel doing his job at C-Sec, and the next … _Poof!_  Gone.  No word, no warning.”

John’s frown deepened.  “That … doesn’t make sense,” he said.  “Garrus doesn’t just ‘up and leave’ without a word to anyone.  That’s not his style.”

“I agree.  When I said that, I was told that was all they knew.”  Alenko sighed and finished off his beer before setting the bottle on the coffee table.  “So I mentioned it to Anderson.  I gave him the rundown of my attempts to contact Garrus and what I was told in response.  I explained how odd I thought it was and even though he doesn’t know him as well as we do, he agreed.  He ordered me look into it further.”  Alenko shrugged.  “Maybe he figures he owes him for the help he gave with bringing down Saren, I don’t know.  Anyway, I went to Garrus’ apartment -- empty.  I spoke with the Executor -- same response as the person who answered my earlier call to C-Sec.  I spoke with his neighbors, the bartender at his favorite drinking establishment, anyone and everyone I could think of.  He’s up and disappeared, Shepard.  No explanation, no warning, and no one anywhere knows where he’s gone.”  Sighing, Alenko leaned back again.  “I even tried to trace him through his omni-tool -- no go there as well.  Either he’s got me blocked, knowing I might try that, or something’s happened that I can’t even begin to describe because I just can’t find any clues at all.”

A buzz at the door pulled Alenko to his feet.  While he answered the summons, John closed his eyes and considered the information he’d just been given.   _Garrus doesn’t just up and disappear like this._  He scrubbed his face with his hands.   _Could he have been … taken?  Kidnapped?  It isn’t likely -- he’s too good of an investigator for that.  Injured?  Memory loss for some reason?_  

The approach of footsteps behind him brought John back to the present.  “Hey, Skipper, good to see you back, too,” Williams greeted him as she joined him on the sofa.

Momentarily distracted, John glanced over and asked, “Did you find Simmons?”

“Nope.  She was ‘out of contact,’ like I told you before,” she said.  “I _did_ hear back from Joker, though.”

John was torn by that announcement.  He still wasn’t certain how to feel about all that had happened and the pilot’s role in Jane’s death.  Logically, he knew he was being too harsh on the pilot, but the part of John that still agonized nightly over the absence of his wife felt more than a little justified at his continued anger.  “And?”

Sighing, Williams shook her head.  “He doesn’t want to see us,” she said.  “I told him I’d come alone if he wanted, that you wouldn’t be anywhere near, but he refused.”  She shrugged.  “Not sure if he doesn’t trust me or if something else is going on, but I’m thinking he’s a dead end, too.”

“Not surprising,” John muttered and left it at that.  

“What about Adams?  Any word back from him?” Alenko asked.

“He’s out on deployment according to Dr. Chakwas,” John replied.  “She agreed to pass along a message from me to him when she heard from him next, but she didn’t think it would be any time soon.”

Crossing her arms and sitting back on the sofa, Williams asked, “Anyone else get the feeling someone else is manipulating the pawns on this chess board?”

Chuckling, Alenko nodded.  “Nice analogy,” he said with a smile.  “And Shepard was saying something like that just before you arrived.”

“Yeah?”

John nodded.  “More along the lines of the royal runaround, but yeah.”

“Okay, good.  Just making sure I wasn’t the only one seeing it,” she said.  “I’ve had my whole life to come to expect this kind of thing.  If I pointed it out now, just after being promoted, people would think I’m being paranoid.”

Alenko pushed himself to his feet and stretched his arms over his head.  “So, now what?  It sounds like the investigation is stalled out for the moment.”

Williams responded first.  “I’m not sure.  All I know is I’m working on this and still, sort of, tied to my other duties through Anderson’s office.  Until that changes, I’ve got nothing but time to try to hunt down leads.  Figured I’d start that up again tomorrow.”

John sat for a long moment, silent.  When he did speak, he told them, “On the flight in I received new orders, actually.”

Alenko and Williams both turned to stare at him in astonishment.  John shrugged and stood.  “N7 orders, to be precise,” he added for clarification.  “It appears they think if I’m good enough to work for Anderson I’m good enough to get back out in the field.”

Williams snorted softly.  “More likely to keep you from asking awkward questions,” she muttered.

“Now you _are_ being paranoid, Chief,” Alenko told her.  Turning to Shepard, he asked, “Does Anderson know of this?  I haven’t seen anything and I get to look at most of the stuff that crosses his desk that’s Alliance related.”

John shook his head.  “No idea, but the orders are legit.  I verified them myself upon landing.”  He pressed a button on his omni-tool.  “I leave tomorrow for briefing on Arcturus.”

Williams pushed herself to her feet and started pacing.  “I … don’t like this,” she insisted.  “Sounds like too much of a coincidence to me.  Even you compared what just happened to a royal runaround.”

John chuckled.  “I know how to watch my back, Chief,” he assured her.  

“You know, I have to agree with her on this,” Alenko offered a moment later.  

John’s brow lifted in surprise.  “You?  Mr. Integrity, I-Play-By-The-Rules?”

Alenko ignored the jibe.  “Think about it, Shepard.  You’ve been on special assignment for Councilor Anderson but you’ve yet to get access that he all but promised you would have for that investigation.”

“True,” John agreed, “but you know as well as I do this kind of thing happens, and orders are orders.  It’s out of my hands.  When I get back from this assignment, I’ll try again and I’ll invoke Hackett’s name if I have to.  That should get me --”

“What about Garrus?” Alenko challenged.  

Williams stopped moving and frowned.  “What about him?” she asked in confusion.  

John sighed, explaining, “He’s gone missing, too.  Just up and left C-Sec without a word to anyone.”

“Or it could have been made to look that way,” Alenko said.  

The three remained standing in the living room in silence for several minutes.

“Or,” John finally sighed heavily, running a hand through his short hair and said, “we could just be grasping at straws and making a case for something out of absolutely nothing.  We have no definitive proof --”

“Other than some mystery ship that attacked the _Normandy_ and blew her out of the sky,” Williams argued, “and our follow up investigation, one instigated by a member of the Council no less, that’s full of dead ends that shouldn’t be dead after what Anderson told us.”

“Toss in a missing C-Sec officer who happened to be on the same mission we were aboard the _Normandy_ and you now being reassigned without Anderson’s knowledge …”  Though that last one was a bit wobbly as things went since Anderson technically wasn't Alliance at the moment, when added to the rest it certainly helped point at something.  Alenko shrugged.  “There’s something there, Shepard, but I don’t know what it is.”

John ran his hands over his face.  “Look, you can keep looking into it while I’m gone.  I --”

“But you can’t go alone!” Williams insisted.

John waved her off.  “I’ll be fine, and I _won’t_ be alone,” he assured her.  “They’re sending me in with a team.”  Williams blinked owlishly at him.  “I’m to report to Arcturus for my briefing where I’ll be joining up with a small strike team.”

“Where are you headed?” Alenko asked.  “If you can tell us, that is.”

Shepard shook his head.  “Can’t.  But don’t worry.  I’ve got a squad of good people going along.  Hopefully it will be in and out, no problems and I’ll be back next week.”  He grinned at each of them.  “Trust me.  N7, remember?”

 

~ n ~

 

When the evac shuttle arrived, John ushered his squad on board ahead of him.  Things hadn’t gone nearly as well as he’d hoped and their mission took twice as long as a result, but they eventually managed to bring it to a successful enough conclusion before extraction.  At least they were _all_ being extracted.  Probably the best thing to come out of the mission, when he thought about it.  

On board, John checked in briefly with the shuttle pilot to determine their ETA to the destroyer before squirreling himself away in a far back corner of the shuttle next to their equipment.  Once settled, he closed his eyes and pulled his focus inward.

Despite the concerns of Alenko and Williams before his departure, his mission had, more or less, gone off without a hitch even if not as smoothly as John would have liked.  The delays were due to other factors, none of which he or any member of his team had control over.  Overall, it was plain, simple and routine, and at the time, John lost himself in the requirements of the mission for a while, separating himself from the reality of what awaited him when he returned to the Citadel.

_A reality without Jane_ , an inner voice reminded him.

The merest twitch at the left corner of his lips was the only sign he’d paid attention to it.  Since Anderson pulled him back into duty early, he’d had more better days than bad.  Sleeping was easier, fewer nightmares or waking up with Jane’s name desperately trying to break free from his lips.  Small improvements to be certain, but improvements nonetheless.

In fact, only once during this assignment reality intruded to play havoc with his focus.  They’d been onsite for two weeks at that point and he’d been assisting the locals with a technical issue.  This in itself was outside of his normal duties, but his familiarity with the tech and the knowledge of how to fix it made it easy to lend a helping hand.  But during the process, John discovered he was less than a month away from the first anniversary of the loss of the _Normandy_ … and his wife.  From that point forward, John fought a difficult battle to keep himself on task and target.  He won that battle in the end, barely, but he’d relied upon the rest of his team to take the slack he knew the distraction caused.  Their extraction came after almost a week of such temptations, and now that he no longer had the mission to hold his attention, he needed to figure out what to do next.

_There is no way in hell I’m going to be on Arcturus or the Citadel when that date hits_ , he told himself firmly.   _I’m going to be as far away from Alliance and Council events and any news reports as I possibly can._  He sat with one leg drawn up, his arms resting on his knee.  The subtlest hint of a tremor left his hands shaking; just enough that anyone who saw it would likely write it off to the movement of the shuttle.  But John knew better.  His eyes closed and his head dropped back against the wall as he breathed in deeply.  

A recent message from his parents, one asking if he would like to meet up with them at the cabin on Earth, tickled at his memory, and in that moment he found a potential solution.  

_The cabin…  I need to head back to Earth anyway for the investigation, why not go there?_  

 

~ n ~

 

After a lifetime of living on ships, of being raised amid the hustle and bustle of military life, the sharp contrast of that lifestyle to the simplicity of living up at the cabin in the mountains was astounding.  Life was lived at a different pace up here, and it was one of the things that had drawn both him and Jane to it over the years.  He’d come this time hoping against hope that it would keep the worst of the pain and memories at bay for him.

It didn’t.

Of course part of that, perhaps the greatest part, was due to the fact that Jane had loved this place as much as he had.  John knew that, accepted it when he first came up with the plan.  Still, despite any agony that accompanied it, he was kept from the outside world and their fondness to rerun the tragic story of the _Normandy_ and Spectre Shepard.  

John shuddered.  He could easily imagine the headlines, envision the interviews, and no doubt would have found himself face to face with a reporter or two himself had he not taken leave.  Alliance Command warned him that they wouldn’t be likely to give him time off again so soon after returning to duty, but in the end John managed to grab a week’s worth of leave.  He suspected either Anderson or Hackett had intervened on his behalf, perhaps both of them, and for that he would be eternally grateful.  A week was all he needed ...

But now, secluded away from the rest of the world, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he’d over thought his plan.  There was an unexpected danger in being alone right now, one he hadn’t considered before.

He stood in the main room before the roaring fire in the hearth.  Jane had loved this room best for it’s openness, the glass windows on the door leading out to the balcony that provided lovely views of the mountains beyond, and for the simple, rustic feel.  Made of wood and stone, there was nothing prefabricated in this building.  Now as he stood there, cup of coffee in hand, John stared down into the flames.  The bright flickers of orange, yellow and red did more to remind him of his wife than any news story or interview.

_Jane._ He sighed as he mentally called her name even though he knew full well and good that he would never hear her voice reply again.  All that acknowledged his call was a loud pop and crackle as the log flared brightly, releasing a small burst of embers onto the grate below.  Lifting the mug to his lips, he took a long sip.  He would have preferred something stiffer, stronger, but tonight he knew there would be added risk to give into the temptation to drink until he was drunk.  To lose himself in the alcohol, to give way to the emotions and feelings he had been mostly successful in hiding away from everyone else for the past year.  The risk factor versus the reward was not substantially in his favor, however, and so he’d refrained.  His career as N7 and an Alliance soldier was all he had left.  He would not put that in jeopardy when he relied on it to help him through the tough times.

Another soft pop from the fire eased a curve of a smile to one side of his lips.  Jane, like he, had been born and raised in the Alliance, mostly living on ships until her mother’s death when she was a teen.  Her first visit to the cabin with John and his parents had been an eye opener for her.  He could clearly recall each and every first new experience she had; her eyes widening, just the hint of shock and surprise and childish delight.  The sound and warmth of a real fire like this was one such memory.

Hand tightening around the mug, John forced himself to turn away.  He entered the kitchen, set his mug on the counter with a thud and poured himself another steaming cup.  

_John, stop being morose …._

The mug was halfway to his lips when he heard her.  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a tell tale waver in the mug as his hand shook.  Dropping it heavily back to the counter, he winced as some of the liquid sloshed over the brim and onto the tender skin of the back of his hand.   _Jane?_  His eyes scanned the room, venturing out into the main living area and towards the fire again when he saw no one.  Hissing softly beneath his breath, he cursed himself a fool and retrieved his drink.

There was a hint of anger and irritation in his motions as he walked over and stepped outside on the balcony, all of which was directed at himself.  The crisp, cool air caressed his face, something that was surprisingly soothing.  Staring out at the mountains beyond, he breathed in deeply.  A few frozen flakes of snow drifted lazily in the breeze, occasionally landing atop his hand or sleeve … or in his coffee.  His eyes were caught by the movement of one, casually looping around in an oblong circle before falling unceremoniously and melting in the steamy drink.  It reminded him of …

_“What are you doing?” John asked, laughter shaking his shoulders as he watched Jane.  She stood beside him, mug of hot cocoa in hand, her head tilted upwards.  Eyes closed, her mouth was wide open and she appeared for all intents and purposes to be inhaling deeply._

_“I want to see what it tastes like,” she countered._

_His amusement released this time in a loud bark.  “Tastes like?  What are you talking about?”_

_“The snow,” she replied.  Opening her eyes, her head swiveled towards him.  “I’ve never seen snow before … not like this, anyway.  It always looks like sugar dust in the pictures, don’t you think?”_

_John frowned.  “Sugar dust?  You’re crazy, you know that?” he teased._

_Jane stuck her tongue out at him.  “I’m imaginative,” she countered easily.  “How else do you think you were such a successful storyteller when we were kids?  I gave your adventures the spice and life they needed to carry us through …”_

A sharp knock at the main door to the cabin rattled through the building and pulled John out of the memory with a brusqueness that left him breathless.  It took a half second longer to remember that he was alone, should have been alone, and that no one knew he was here.  Scowling, he stalked across the room and  yanked the door open, a few choice words preparing to spring free of his lips …

… and died there in the cold.

“Hey, Skipper,” Williams greeted him with a wide smile and hopeful look.  “Got room for a couple of wayward soldiers?”

For an instant, John wondered if he was lost in a dream somewhere.  A crazy, mixed up fantasy where his wife, his friends, and he were still together aboard the _Normandy_ and …

“Evening, commander,” Alenko added, walking up the steps to join Shepard and Williams.  

“What are you two doing here?” John asked.  Though the scowl was still partly in place, he was more bewildered at their sudden arrival than anything.

Williams chuckled and Alenko inhaled deeply.  Reaching over, the lieutenant took John’s mug and muttered, “You call that coffee?” before disappearing inside the cabin.  John could only blink in astonishment as he turned around the corner in the direction of the kitchen.

“Don’t mind him, Skipper,” Williams told him.  “He’s been wanting to grab a cup since we landed.”

Stepping backwards, John finally found his manners and allowed Williams inside.  “What the hell is going on?” he demanded as he closed the door.  “Why are you two even here?  How did you even know?”

Williams removed her heavy winter coat and tossed it over the back of the nearby sofa on top of Alenko’s and Shepard’s.  She followed Shepard into the kitchen, explaining in a sober tone, “Well, neither of us thought you should be alone just now.”

Shepard straightened and folded his arms across his chest.  Glancing between the two, he countered dryly, “Is that so?”

“Actually,” Alenko interjected, “your mother contacted me.  Said you were coming here for the week and wondered if Williams and I might drop by to make sure you were okay.”  As he spoke, he continued the motions of making a fresh pot of coffee.  “Sounded like a good idea to me.”

“And to me,” Williams added.  

“And you didn’t think to check to see if maybe I needed the time away from everyone?” John asked.

There was a long moment of silence in which he noted Williams and Alenko exchange a look he couldn’t quite decipher.  It broke when Williams said softly, _knowingly_ , “Time is the one thing you don’t need right now, Skipper.  Trust me on that.”

John opened his mouth to respond, but no words would form in his mind.  Shutting his mouth again, he turned and walked away.

When he was out of the room, Williams sagged a little before joining Alenko by the counter.  “I knew we shouldn’t have come,” she muttered.

“We did the right thing and you know it,” Alenko assured her.  “He can grump and grouch all he wants, but the fact is he’s still hurting.  Even his parents thought it was a good idea, remember?”

“Yeah, but they weren’t the ones about to have their heads bitten off.”  

Williams followed after Shepard then, finding him on the balcony overlooking the mountains.  Cautiously, she stepped out onto the platform to join him.  “What an amazing view,” she murmured.

His forearms propping him up on the railing, John sighed heavily and nodded.  “This was one of Jane’s favorite places,” he replied.  

Williams stepped beside him and mimicked his position.  “I can see why.  Did you guys come here often?”

John shrugged.  “When we could.  Our schedules pretty much left it limited to a handful of holidays and occasional breaks for shore leave over the years.”

“Too bad,” Williams said.  “This looks like a nice place to come and … recharge, if you know what I mean.”

John managed a short laugh.  “Jane said something like that, too.”

“Kind of reminds me of my parents’ place north of Vancouver,” Alenko said as he joined the conversation.  He was carrying three steaming mugs.  Shepard and Williams each relieved him of one.

“Mountain view?” Shepard asked.

Alenko nodded.  “The family orchard borders on the edge of the Cascades,” he explained.  “Magnificent views all around.”

John managed a smile before taking a sip of the hot drink.  “So, my folks sent you, did they?” he ventured.

“Something like that,” Alenko agreed.

“They were worried about you, this being the first anniversary of the commander’s passing and all,” Williams added.  She braved a small sip from her mug.  “Hope you don’t mind.”

Sighing, John returned to staring out at the mountains below and shook his head.  “I don’t,” he assured them.  “Not really.”  He left it at that.  They didn’t need to know he’d been doubting his own decision this week.  “Thanks.”

Alenko stretched out his hand holding his mug towards John.  “Here’s to the commander,” he murmured quietly, gently clinking his mug to Shepard’s.  

Williams followed suit as soon as she saw what the LT was doing.  “‘They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.  At the going down of the sun and in the morning, We will remember them,’”** she murmured as she followed suit and touched her mug to each of theirs.

Silently, John stared into the dark depths of the swirling liquid, but a graceful and thankful though pained smile curved at his lips.  He was familiar with the _Ode to Remembrance_.  How many times had he and Jane both echoed the words at a mess gathering after a particularly bad mission.  “We will remember them,” he managed to echo along with Alenko.  It wasn’t free of all pain, but it was a start.  And for the first time in a year, John felt the true stirrings of hope flutter inside his chest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  For the Fallen, by Laurence Binyon


	12. Chapter 12

 

“ _Now, THIS is what I call a honeymoon!_ ”

Startled by her husband’s sudden and unexpectedly stealthy presence behind her, Newlywed Jane shrieked when his arms looped around her waist, lifting her up in his arms.  “ _John!  Put me down!_ ”

Chuckling, Newlywed John shook his head.  “ _Not yet,_ ” he told her, turning to carry her down the hall to their room.  “ _I have a surprise for you._ ”

Older Jane sighed softly, the memories returning as easily as if they happened yesterday.  As they moved he adjusted his hold so she was cradled in his arms.  Only then did he nudge the door open just enough so he could carry her across.

His actions weren’t lost on Newlywed Jane, and she grinned up at him.  “ _Carrying me over the threshold, huh?  Shouldn’t that have been the FRONT door?_ ”

Newlywed John snickered.  “ _You’re lucky I can carry you at all,_ ” he reminded her.  A soft grunt escaped past his lips to remind her of his injury received on Elysium.  “ _By all accounts, you should be the one carrying me._ ”

Giggling, Newlywed Jane wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders.  “ _That could be fun, I suppose, but you know I’d have to use my biotics._ ”

He came to a halt just inside their room and set her gently on her feet.  Biotics were a strange thing to him.  Not having the ability himself and knowing well and good the general view of people who did have such abilities, there was a part of him that couldn’t quite get over the edginess caused by the use of mass effect energy in such a way.  Then again, he’d been witness to their use in the military.  They were a very effective tool, weapon even, a fact he could not deny.  That his wife was one had little to do with his viewpoint, most of which was formed in the years before Jane’s abilities manifested.  They still left him a bit on edge, despite their discussions, but there was no denying they gave a smaller person such as herself a distinct advantage, especially in combat.  

“ _Maybe someday_ ,” he finally replied.  “ _Anyway, I’ve got something else in mind right now._ ”  

Newlywed Jane giggled when he waggled his eyebrows.  “ _Is that so?_ ”

Reaching an arm out, he nudged the door to the bathroom open.  “ _Yup.  After you._ ”

As she saw her Newlywed self enter the room, spying the flowers -- roses!  Where had he found roses on Arcturus of all places! -- and candles and the steaming and scented bath just waiting for them, Older Jane knew she wasn’t imagining the ache that sliced through the area of her heart at the memory.  She hadn’t forgotten, exactly, but neither was it one she pulled out too often to remember.  

Her marriage to John was … wonderful.  Challenging.  Good times and bad.  But throughout it all, _all_ the little things added up to make them stronger.  His recollection of small details, like dating back to shortly after they’d first met when she’d told him she liked roses.  The little known things including her aversion to bubbles but preferring bath oils instead.  His deep down desire to catch her off guard in moments alone like this with a romantic interlude that under any other circumstances might result in good natured ribbing by their fellow soldiers, but that Jane only added to the list of reasons she adored him ….

“ _You spoil me_ ,” she murmured to her husband as he settled into the tub behind her.  She sighed softly, leaning back against his chest as his hand reached for the wash rag.  “ _Hmm … but I’ll take it._ ”

He chuckled deeply near her ear.  “ _I figured you would_ ,” he murmured.  A moment later, as his hands began trailing light circular patterns across the skin of her thigh, he nuzzled behind her ear, pressing light kisses along the nape of her neck.  

Groaning softly, she asked, “ _Are you calling me predictable?_ ”

“ _Not in the least, but you tell me who knows you half as well as I do._ ”

She had no reply to that, and instead accepted the attentions.

Older Jane’s smile waned as the scene began to blur.  Their honeymoon on Elysium had been a disaster, there was no other way to put it.  After an extensive debrief following those events, they’d been lucky to get a couple of days before they had to report on station again.  Still, John had did the best he could at the time and Jane always appreciated the extra effort he’d taken.  

The whorling fog around her now continued to move steadily and Older Jane wondered where it would take her next.  From this point in time forward, their lives revolved around their training and careers, spending more time apart than together, though there had been a few occasions they managed shared leave or a mission together.  The holidays were one surefire way to find some time together, thanks to Hannah Shepard’s insistence they spend it with her and Thomas.  Still, far more of it over the years of their marriage was spent apart.

That was why their moments together had come to mean so much more to Jane over the years.  Each and every one a memory that she could hold close and savor during the long days apart ...

When the fog around her settled once again, Jane was a little startled to find she was still in their apartment on Arcturus.  It was difficult to tell just when, but her solitary presence suggested it was one of the times she had leave and John didn’t.  Frowning, she tilted her head as she watched events unfold.

Returning from a mission was always rough, especially when she couldn’t see her husband right away.  Aside from the usual marriage shenanigans that would follow -- and where they were concerned, ‘shenanigans’ was a perfect way to describe some of them -- just having his solid presence around as an anchor inevitably made her return to reality an easier journey.  She might not speak for hours or even days depending on the mission and its outcome, but he always assured her she didn’t need to.  It was a two way street, of course, and he was well aware of that as was she.  That said, there were ways in which John, even in his absence, still make his presence known.

“ _Dammit, John,_ ” Younger Jane muttered, leaning back against the closed door and allowing her duffle to drop with a loud thud at her feet.  Older Jane noticed a few tears escaping tightly closed lids.  “ _Why can’t you be here when I need you?_ ”

Startled, Older Jane’s head straightened, her eyes widening.  This was a reaction she had no clear memory of.  Startled at the despondency in her tone, she watched her younger self push herself away from the door, pounding it hard with her fist one last time before she stepped out of range.  Anger and frustration left her movements jerky as she crossed the room and dropped onto the sofa.  Frantically searching her memory, Older Jane was stymied as to which particular instance this was …

… until the soft beep went off.  Her younger self clearly wasn’t prepared for the sound or the accompanying vibration in the cushions beneath her, but even as she leapt up from the furniture, Older Jane felt a smile tug widely at her lips.   _John, you are such a lovable, romantic idiot at times!  You always know exactly what I need!_

Dropping to her knees, Younger Jane pulled the cushions from the sofa searching for the culprit.  It wasn’t much of a challenge.  The small device looked like an OSD but was preset with some sort of alarm and motion detector, and she found it the moment the cushions were removed.  Sighing in exasperation, Younger Jane grabbed it and tossed it onto the coffee table before she set about returning the cushions to their proper place.

“ _Hey, don’t leave me hanging, baby!_ ”

Eyes rolling, a small snarl at her lips, Younger Jane turned and glared down at the device.  “ _What the hell did you do this time …?_ ”

“ _Made it home safely, I see?_ ”

Dropping onto the sofa, Younger Jane gasped softly and took it back in hand.  “ _John?_ ”  Somehow, some way, he’d set it up for direct communications between them.  

“ _In the flesh … well, in the tech is more accurate, I suppose.  Still --_ ”

Groaning, Younger Jane sagged back.  She sniffled softly.  “ _In the flesh would be better_ ,” she groused, but only half-heartedly.

“ _I know, and trust me, I’ll make it up to you next time._ ”

“ _Promise?_ ”

“ _Hey, I made up for our lost honeymoon, didn’t I?_ ” he countered.

Younger Jane sniffed again.  “ _Not really, but you’ve got time yet._ ”

At the other end of the connection, he chuckled.  “ _Well, in the meantime do me a favor._ ”

Younger Jane frowned.  Warily, she asked, “ _What?_ ”

“ _Go into the bedroom._ ”

There was a long moment of silence before Younger Jane asked, “ _Why?_ ”

“ _Don’t you trust me?_ ” he asked.

Sighing, Younger Jane pushed herself to her feet and set the device on the table.  “ _Go on!_ ” his voice urged, and Jane rolled her eyes again.

The scene didn’t change before her, clearly remaining focused on what would come next in this room, and Older Jane took the opportunity to simply stare at the device and listen to the younger version of her husband hum and whistle and otherwise pass the minutes until her return.  The ache from before returned and along with it a healthy dose of longing.  She turned, seeing nothing but their apartment at Arcturus, and in an odd way she suddenly felt trapped.  In what, she couldn’t quite tell, but the fact she couldn’t control what was happening around her, that the views she was being given were no more than random snippets of her life was enough to create the sensation.   _John …_

“ _John, you didn’t!_ ”

The cry ringing through the apartment was enough to bring Older Jane’s attention back around to her younger self, now hurrying down the hall from the bedroom and clambering over the back of the sofa so she could sit and face the device.

“ _Didn’t what?_ ”  

Amusement was clear in his tone and as she’d recognized then, John was as much of a scoundrel -- albeit a lovable and adorable one -- as ever.  “ _Jo-ohn …_ ”  Her voice cracked roughly.

“ _You don’t have one yet, do you?_ ” he asked.

Sniffing, Younger Jane shook her head.  “ _You know I don’t._ ”

“ _And you’ve been complaining about your current one for --_ ”

“ _I haven’t been complaining!_ ” she insisted.  “ _All I said was that it couldn’t run your chat program and --_ ”

A snicker crossed the sound waves.  “ _A complaint if ever I heard one,_ ” he replied sagely.  “ _Besides, I have it on good authority the Logic Arrest is the best one around._ ”

Younger Jane sighed loudly, sniffed again, but said nothing.

“ _Baby?_ ”

“ _Even though I told you not to get it for me,_ ” Younger Jane said, trying her hardest to sound as if she was scolding him, “ _thank you._ ”

His grin could be heard over the line.  “ _You are very welcome.  Now, turn it on._ ”

“ _Don’t you have something you should be doing?_ ” she asked.

“ _This will only take a minute_ ,” he insisted, “ _and I’m not on duty for another ten_.”

At that point, Jane’s younger self knew something was up.  She slipped the omni-tool on her wrist and pressed the button to turn it on.  “ _You loaded it up with something, didn’t you?_ ” she challenged as she waited.  “ _You just couldn’t keep your hands off it._ ”

Snickering, Younger John replied, “ _I had to make sure it worked, didn’t I?  Would hardly be worth the money if I didn’t … give it a test drive first._ ”

“ _A ‘test drive,’ you say, but we both know that means you’ve been fiddling with …_ ”  Her voice trailed off as the omni-tool lit up as a chat program opened automatically.  But it wasn’t just any ordinary chat program …  Younger Jane drew her lip between her teeth and bit down hard to stop the tears as the familiar face appeared before her.  Even as her younger self reached out with her free hand toward the image as if to touch him, Older Jane did the same.  “ _John …_ ”

Younger John grinned widely at his wife.  “ _It works,_ ” he said simply.

Younger Jane sniffed and nodded.  “ _It does._ ”

“ _Hey there, beautiful._ ”  Younger John sighed, his expression softening a bit as his eyes roamed her face.  “ _Rough day at work?_ ”

Older Jane sniffed back here own reaction as the scene before her started to fade.  “ _Nooooooo!_ ” she cried, her voice echoing oddly in the fading mist around her.  But there was nothing to be done.  Within seconds, all was the neutral grey she’d come to expect at the end of such things.  The fog settled around her, the coiling whorls slowly coming to a stop.  

Deep inside, Jane desperately sought a way to bring it back, to hear her husband’s voice just one more time, to see his face and laugh and smile and cry …  To know that the one constant in her life since she was a teenager was still there for her no matter what.

All she heard around her was silence ...

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of late, my muses have decided to take what amounts to an extended leave of absence most days. Most of them, anyway. Basically what that results in is a focus more on my original fic stories than fanfiction.
> 
> That said, I still intend to follow up with my fanfics as they will inspire me, but that will likely be on a less frequent basis than before. I have a few I really want to see finished, too. 
> 
> So, with that in mind, hope you enjoy the latest chapter for ShepShep!

John adamantly refused to fall into the conspiracy trap.  There was no point to it. It didn’t bring Jane or the others who died aboard the _Normandy_ back, and as he saw things, it served no purpose other than to let old wounds continue to fester.  No one wanted that, least of all him, and he suspected Jane would have his hide if he knowingly allowed it.  It was time to move on. Forward.

His best intentions, however, were being severely tested.  Faced with continual stonewalling and refusals by other Alliance personnel to provide reasonable information, even when he dropped Anderson’s and Hackett’s names, John eventually had to take time to reassess the situation.  Doubt lurked in the shadows, poking and prodding at him, pointing out each and every little problem standing in his way and the increasing frequency with which they continued to appear.

To their credit, neither Williams nor Alenko brought that fact up during their discussions.  Then again, John didn’t really need them to when it was so obvious.

Following his retreat to the mountain cabin and the passing of the first anniversary of the _Normandy’s_ destruction, he would have to have been blind not see the clear mountain of evidence before him.  

It was only after the the commander at the data storage depot refused to cooperate for a third time and directly to John’s face that his view of the situation altered for good.  His basic request for information hadn’t worked the first time. The second, Anderson’s and Hackett’s names had no weight to any good effect, either. On this visit, he resorted to pulling his N7 rank on her, complete with official uniform, and still he was denied.  Anger and frustration ate at him, a stoked fire simmering just below the surface. John recognized that contentiousness could be defined in many ways and in the end would not help him. He tried his level best to keep from reaching to that point. In the end, the commander probably thought she was being subtle, he supposed, but the slight movement of her hand as she slowly, carefully leaned across her desk while denying him access was easy for him to spot given his training, and he was well aware of the silent alarm system installed at all System Alliance facilities.

 _Time for a strategic retreat_.

On the shuttle back to the Citadel, the only logical conclusion he could draw from the whole experience was that by leaving before a squad or two of security guards arrived to escort him off the premises might leave her willing to assist at a later date.  

 _Not holding my breath on that_.

Events over the weeks following chipped further away at his view of the situation as a whole.  When Williams returned and detailed similar roadblocks in her investigative experiences, John finally decided something needed to change.  At his request, Williams and Alenko met up at Anderson’s office. By now, Alenko was in full agreement with Shepard’s assessment, and the three came to the mutual decision that Anderson needed to be informed.

“I don’t get it,” John muttered as he paced the small conference area of Anderson’s office.  “What are they trying to hide from us? Why?”

“What _could_ they be trying to hide?” Williams countered.  “I highly doubt those last records from the _Normandy_ actually got off to data storage before it was destroyed, but the reports prior to that had to.  And even if information from the attack made it back, why would they want to keep it from us? What could be in them that’s so scary?  We were the ones out there fighting Saren and the geth for _weeks_ .  We knew them and their tactics best.   _We were there_ !  We lived through that attack!”  She dropped heavily into a chair, a snort of disgust escaping her lips.  “If _any_ body’s going to understand about the geth having a weapon to take down Alliance ships, you’d think it would be us, right?  That’s not too difficult to figure out!”

“It couldn’t have been the geth,” John replied immediately.  “The _Normandy_ ’s stealth system was engaged.  No one, including the geth, can get past that.  We proved that time and again while hunting Saren.”  He paused, running a hand through his hair, frowning when he belatedly realized how long it had grown.   _When was the last time I even thought to get it cut?_ he mused silently.  “Even if they somehow found a way past it, the geth never had any weapon strong enough to take us down.  We never would have escaped Ilos if they had. And without Saren and Sovereign around, the geth had no one guiding them.”

“Could be different geth,” Alenko offered.  John and Williams both turned to stare at him.  Steadily, he met their gazes and shrugged. “Rumor has it more geth are leaving the Perseus Veil for our space.”

Williams frowned.  “Since when? I haven’t heard anything like that.”

“Neither have I,” John agreed.

Alenko shook his head.  “As I said, rumors.”

Williams sniffed, sitting back in her seat and folding her arms across her chest.  “Alright, but from what we experienced while chasing Saren, we know that if they’re over on _this_ side of the Veil, they have a purpose, right?  A reason? A plan?” Tilting her head to the side, she added, “Maybe … maybe we find a purpose for their continued presence and then we’ll have our answer?”

There were a few moments of silence and each looked at the other in slight bewilderment.   _Is it that easy?_ hung in the air around them, but no one put voice to it.

A half-breath later, Alenko interjected quietly, “It could have something to do with what’s going on in the Terminus System.”

John looked over at Williams who shook her head and shrugged, a clear indication she had no idea what Alenko was talking about.  For the second time in as many minutes, John felt he’d been pushed too far outside of the loop, and he didn’t like it. “What’s going on out there?” he asked.

“Over the past year, three colonies have up and disappeared,” Alenko related.  “When investigation teams are sent out, they to find nothing.”

“Nothing?” Williams echoed.  “So … no problem? What’s wrong with th--”  

“Nothing,” Alenko clarified, “as in everyone goes missing without a trace.  No colonists. No sign of a fight. Just everyone --” Kaidan raised his hand, wiggled his fingers and finished, “-- poof.  Gone. It all looks normal, but no one’s there.”

Williams frowned.  “That’s impossible,” she muttered.  “A colony can’t just up and disappear like that.”

Alenko shrugged.  “I would agree,” he replied, “except that it’s happened three times.  That’s all I can tell you.”

“Could the colonies have been abandoned?” John wondered.

“One colony alone I might buy,” Alenko agreed, “especially since these places are all in the Terminus and we know how tough it can be out there for them.  But if that was the case, we should have heard something about their reappearance in a different location, or groups of colonists moving through ports, or _some_ thing to give us an idea.  But we’re talking three colonies here.  I just don’t see how it’s possible all three up and vanished without a trace.”

Drumming her fingertips on the table, Williams asked, “And you think the geth did this?”

The lieutenant shook his head.  “You suggested looking for a purpose.  I provided you with one. I’m not saying they are related.  Call it … coincidence, if you have to call it something. All I know is that colonies are disappearing and no one knows how or where or why.”

John started pacing again.  “Doesn’t sound like the geth,” he insisted after a moment.

“I’m not so sure, Skipper,” Williams interrupted.  “You remember how Eden Prime played out.”

“That was when they were led by Saren and Sovereign and they were after the Prothean beacon,” John pointed out.  His eyes met Alenko’s as he asked, “Could they be after more prothean tech? Have any new sites been found? Any old ones come under open scrutiny?”

Alenko shook his head.  “Not that I’ve been able to find.  And don’t forget, on Eden Prime the bodies of the colonists were left behind.”  He gave Williams an apologetic look when she paled slightly. That was still an open wound for her.

John sighed and ran his hands over his face.  This situation was getting more and more complicated by the minute.  “What colonies are we talking about this time?” John asked. He pulled up his omni-tool and typed the names in as Alenko read them off.  

Williams pushed herself to her feet and walked over to watch the screen on John’s omnitool scroll up.  “All human colonies, too,” she observed quietly. “Ouch. Hmm … Could it be we’re being targeted?”

“Retaliation, perhaps, for what happened with Saren?” Alenko offered.

Williams chewed on her lip thoughtfully before shaking her head.  “Not buying that one. No Saren or Sovereign, remember? Even you agreed they needed some sort of guidance.”

John froze, a chill running up his spine when realization struck.  “Unless someone new is leading them,” he countered quietly.

Williams visibly shuddered.  “Skipper …?”

John darted a quick look at Alenko who looked almost as spooked at the idea as Williams sounded.  However, before either of them could continue the conversation, the doors swooshed open and Anderson strode in.  “What does he think of this?” John asked in a hushed tone as Anderson crossed the room.

“He isn’t aware of any connection that I know of,” Alenko replied.  “It’s all hearsay, and until you showed up today, I hadn’t considered a connection.”  He shrugged.

Straightening, John said, “Then we don’t waste his time right now on mere speculation.  Let’s find something more concrete first.”

Alenko and Williams both returned soft grunts of agreement as Anderson joined them.

 

~ n ~

 

“Lieutenant, can I speak to you for a moment before you leave?”

Alenko halted three steps from the door and turned on his heel to find Anderson rising from his desk.  “Sir?” The former captain’s smile was as engaging as ever, and instinct instructed Alenko to relax a little.  

“Lieutenant,” the Councilor began, leading the younger man out onto the balcony of his office with a view of the Presidium behind him, “when I walked in earlier, you, Williams and the commander seemed rather ill at ease.”

With careful control, Alenko walked up to the balcony wall and rested his arms against it, assuming a position similar to Anderson’s.   _It shouldn’t surprise me he noticed_ , he thought.  Eyes scanning the area, he blinked in surprise.   _We’re off the record, too_ .   _If he wanted this to be an official conversation, we’d be inside where we could be recorded._  Returning his gaze to the open Presidium, he focused on nothing in particular, but also missed nothing going on.   _I have an opportunity here, even without proof.  What would Shepard want me to do?_  

Alenko was nothing if not straight forward, especially to a superior officer.  And though his role was now a civilian one, Alenko would always view Anderson as his superior officer.   “He and Williams have run into some … challenges during their investigation,” Alenko admitted after another moment of consideration.  

“I see.”  Anderson glanced over at him.  “Care to elaborate? Or were you ordered to remain silent?”

Alenko returned the look.  “It wasn’t an order,” he admitted.  

“Then why don’t you fill me in on the details.”

It took him about ten minutes to run through the problems Shepard and Williams had been encountering followed by a quick summary of today’s discussion before Anderson joined them.  Alenko left nothing out, but neither did he go too in depth; providing just enough information to give the now-politician an idea of what obstacles were being faced.

“Interesting,” Anderson mused.  “And you think whatever is tied to the attack on the _Normandy_ is now involved with the colonies that are disappearing?”

Alenko shrugged.  “I don’t know, sir.  Williams asked for a reason for the geth to be returning to our side of the Perseus Veil.  It was the first thing I could think of that could potentially connect the two.” He sighed and shook his head.  “Honestly, I think it’s too much of a coincidence. Then again …”

“You don’t believe in coincidence,” Anderson finished for him.

Alenko agreed by shaking his head again.

“Hmm, interesting.”  Anderson straightened and handed Alenko a datapad he pulled from his pocket.  “Keeping in mind that this conversation is just between us for now, read this,” he advised.

Alenko skimmed the message, right brow lifting as comprehension came.  “They’re sending him back out full time?” he breathed softly. He returned the datapad to the Councilor.

Anderson nodded.  “It seems our hands are being forced and the time for our little investigation is winding down quickly,” he said.  

Alenko grimaced.  “Damn. He and Williams must have spooked someone.”

Anderson chuckled, head shaking back and forth.  “More like Alliance Brass wants Commander Shepard’s Reaper situation to be swept under the rug, I think,” he replied dryly.  “‘Out of sight, out of mind.’ They don’t want to believe it can happen again.” A soft sigh escaped, drifting out over the Presidium.  “As does the Council.”

Alenko blinked.  “But -- sir, they can’t!  We proved the Reapers are out there, and Sovereign warned us more would be coming!” he protested.

“I know that and you know that,” Anderson assured him, “and everyone on the commander’s team knew that.  But without her here to keep on the Council’s ass about it, there’s little I can do to convince them otherwise.”

A frown creased Alenko’s brows.  “Because we not only lost an Alliance commander, but the first and only human Spectre?”

“That likely has something to do with it,” Anderson agreed, “but I think even if she was here the Council would be pushing this to the background as much as possible.”  He shrugged. “Politicians are politicians the galaxy over, lieutenant. Don’t ever forget that.”

“No, sir,” Alenko replied automatically.  The veiled message wasn’t lost on him, either.   _That means you too, doesn’t it, sir?_  A moment later, he couldn’t keep from asking, “Does that mean you want it put behind us too?”

Anderson shrugged.  “It means that if I’m going to do anything about it, I need solid proof I can put in front of the Council that something is still out there causing problems.”  He pushed himself away from the wall and turned to face Alenko. “Lieutenant, between us I have no problem if you wish to continue your … investigation into the disappearances of these human colonies.  Call in Shepard and Williams if and when you can, if you like. But if your research should happen upon other evidence in the process ….”

A small smile curved at Alenko’s lips as he straightened.  “Understood, sir. I will keep you advised.”

“Please do.”

 

~ n ~

 

“Commander Shepard?”

John’s attention, drawn by the familiar voice, turned to seek it out.  Williams, beside him, paused in her steps to wait. “Adams?”

Stepping out into the light from their left, Lieutenant Greg Adams smiled at them both.  “Good to see you, commander.”

John was quick to extend a hand in greeting.  “Good to see you, too. But I was under the impression from Dr. Chakwas that you were deployed just now?”

“We were,” he admitted, “but the ship had to be brought back in for repairs.”

Williams visibly shuddered.  “Not in battle, I hope,” she murmured.

Adams chuckled again.  “Nope. Trouble with some upgrades installed right before we left.  Just needed some equipment only available in port,” he explained. “We’ve got 24 hours of leave, so I thought I’d try to catch up with you.”  His eyes flickered back and forth between them. “I understood from Karen you had some questions you wanted to ask?”

Nodding, John led both Adams and Williams inside the apartment building.  He didn’t speak again until they were behind the closed doors of Alenko’s flat.  “We’ve been trying to follow up on what happened during the attack that took out the _Normandy_ ,” John explained.  “Verifying that the stealth system was engaged and working properly, that sort of thing.”

Adams nodded.  “I understand, sir.  Well, I don’t have access to the data records from Engineering, but I can assure you that the stealth system was up and running at the time of the attack.  Had been for a number of hours at that point.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary?” Williams asked.

“Not a thing.  It was running just as smoothly as ever,” he insisted.  

John ran his fingers along his jaw and chin as he considered that.  “Then whatever hit us could see past it.”

“I don’t see how,” Adams said, “but I suppose anything’s possible.”

“Or maybe they just took a good guess,” Williams muttered.

Adams shook his head.  “From what Joker told me afterwards, we were targeted.    It was an attack run, not a guess. They knew _exactly_ where we were.”

John glanced over at the engineer.  “You’ve spoken to him?”

Adams sighed but nodded.  “Shortly after our pods made landfall,” he admitted.  “He asked if anything had gone wrong with the stealth system.  I assured him nothing had. He told me that the attacking ship behaved as if it knew exactly where we were.  Like it could see us.”

Williams’ gaze met John’s.  “That’s something we didn’t have before,” she observed quietly.

“It is,” John agreed.  He looked back at Adams.  “And there’s nothing else you can add?  From an engineering standpoint, if nothing else.”

“No, commander.  I’m sorry.”

John sighed softly, but gave the man a warm smile.  “I won’t take up any more of your leave then,” he said.  “Thanks for coming by, Adams. You’ve at least cleared up that for us.”

Nodding, Adams turned to leave.  “Anytime, commander. If you think of anything else you need to ask, you know how to reach me.”

He was through the doors before it occurred to John what Adams meant.  A small smirk toyed at his lips as he turned back to face Williams. “I’ll be damned ….”

Williams frowned.  “What?”

“Adams … and Chakwas,” he clarified.  Turning toward the kitchen, he called over, “Want a beer?”

“Sure.  I’m off duty for a while,” she replied, accepting the drink and following him into the front room where she fell into a chair.  After a long, cold pull from the bottle, she asked, “So. Care to regale me with your latest adventures?”

John, falling onto the sofa, looked at her quizzically.  “What do you mean?”

“Your N7 missions,” she specified.  “Anything about them you can tell me?”

Biting back a laugh, John asked, “You aren’t bucking for ICT, are you, Chief?”

Williams rolled her eyes, adamantly shaking her head.  “Hell no!” she exclaimed. “I’m just curious what they have you involved in is all.  You hear all kinds of stories, you know? Call me curious -- I want to know if they match up to the _real_ thing.”

Dropping his head back to the edge of the sofa, John closed his eyes.  For a long moment, he considered relating to her one of his more recent missions.  Though much of it was classified, there were parts he _could_ tell her.  “You sure you want to hear about this?  It’s all rather boring.”

Williams chuckled.  “Not to a ground pounder like me, Skipper,” she insisted.  

“All right.  Let me see ….”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After spending a large portion of the past year with writer's block, it appears, at least for the moment, the muses are returning. Fingers crossed, this will last. That said, Nano is almost upon us and I may go silent for a time because of that but I hope to have at the very least about five or six chapters to post during November.

A soft, familiar chuckle echoed off the walls of the room, but Jane ignored it.  Her husband’s amusement aside, her focus was on the project in front of her; a focus narrowed in to a point of complete concentration.  _I’ve got this.  I’ve really got this!  If I just …_

The quiet thunk of metal connecting with a glass surface to her left penetrated past the barriers in place, resulting in just enough distraction to break that focus.  Gasping sharply, her fingers jerked and lost their hold.  A tangle of yarn and needles fell into her lap in an inelegant pile.  She blinked, staring down in confusion even as John’s hand settled at her shoulder.

“What is it?”

His tone was neutral enough, but as Jane’s gaze snapped up to his, she caught the tell-tale hints of amusement that framing the question.  Glowering, she automatically reached over for the mug of tea, a welcome if not wholly appreciated distraction at that moment, and took a cautious sip.  “What does it look like?” she demanded, irritation simmering just beneath the surface.  _I was so close!_

He sat at the other end of the couch, his eyes intent upon her.  “A big tangled mess?”

Jane’s eyes narrowed.  “Really?” she demanded.  “That’s all you see?”

Both sets of eyes glanced to her lap before meeting again.  He, too, had a mug in hand and opted to drink instead of respond to her question. 

The scent that drifted over from his mug and tickled Jane’s nose left her no doubt he was indulging in the coffee they both loved.  _At least one of us can_ , she thought irritably.  She took brief refuge in her own drink again, stalling.  Herbal tea was not her favorite by a long shot.

“Maybe,” he said cautiously, “I’m just not seeing it right.  After all, you are the one who -.”

Jane’s mug landed solidly on the table, a tiny wave of tea sloshing up and over the rim, dribbling down to form a ring on the surface.  “If you _dare_ say to me it’s a woman’s job, John, I swear I’ll -!”

John’s snort of laughter transitioned into a quick cough as he choked on his coffee.  It took a long minute for him to clear his throat so he could rasp out, “Jane, you know me better than that!  You’ve proved over and over again that you can do whatever you set your mind to!”  Winking at her he concluded, “Why do you think you’re the one who’s pregnant and not me?”

Irritation and the sudden urge to sass back at him a reference to biology classes when they were in school together unexpectedly bled into something else entirely as a storm inside her triggered a tidal wave of emotions.  Tears welled quickly in the corners of her eyes, dribbling down her cheeks, reaching her jaw and falling singularly, like drops from a leaky faucet.  Pulling in a deep breath was very difficult.  Jane lurched to her feet, uncaring now of the falling mass of yarn and needles that were supposed to be a blanket and stumbled out of the room. 

Reality soon proved, however, she had no place to retreat for privacy in their tiny apartment.  John found her moments later.  Taking knee beside her, one arm sliding around her shoulders, he sat.  She stiffened momentarily, her face buried in her knees so he couldn’t see, but when she felt a gentle tug urging her closer, she gave in.

“Jane …”

Another wave of emotion followed at the tenderness and concern in his tone.  This wasn’t a new experience for them.  Since discovering her condition, at least once a week something set her off into an emotional maelstrom, and John was usually the instigator, whether intentional or not.  That part didn’t matter, not really.  What bothered her more was the lack of control she had over it.  By nature, Jane preferred to keep her emotional reactions private, occasionally even from her husband.  But it now seemed that wouldn’t be the case.

Sniffling, Jane rested her head on his shoulder, sighed softly, and cuddled close to him.  _Your emotions will be all over the place for the next few months_ , her doctor warned.  The full weight of the doctor’s words hadn’t hit her until she passed the message along to her husband, though more tears, while informing him of her condition not four weeks earlier. 

She sighed when his hand ran over her hair and down her back to pat her shoulders gently.  _This is going to be a long pregnancy_ …

 

~ n ~

 

Older Jane’s eyes shot closed, an attempt to slam the door shut on that particular path.  Years of practice and focus, aided by internally shouting the lyrics to no less than four old Earth heavy metal songs, each repeated twice, went a long way to accomplishing her goal.

During their marriage, the topic of children while initially agreeable to both had evolved into a very touchy subject.  Not for lack of trying -- God knew they gave it their best over the years -- but months and years of failed attempts took a toll on them both which in turn stretched the limits of their relationship nearly to the breaking point.  _Almost_. 

What made them excellent soldiers and N7s out in the field didn’t help on more personal levels of communication or sharing of feelings.  One attempted to hide personal pain and overwhelming sense of failure in drink.  The other sought out extra missions and duty assignments, daring Fate to do what it would in return. 

Only a quick intervention by John’s parents derailed any serious attempts at self-destruction for either of them.  Forced to face reality, John eventually admitted his feelings of inadequacy and helplessness to his wife in the wake of losing their child.  Jane, for her part, bared her soul to him, displaying the utter heartache she faced as well as her own sense of inadequacy.  Time brought them solace and healing.  Re-evaluation of themselves and their marriage helped them move forward. 

But once in a very long while, the old personal sting returned to niggle at the back of Jane’s mind …

 

~ n ~

 

_“Commander, I never joke about my work.  You should know that.”_

Exiting the _Normandy_ ’s medbay, time came nearly to a standstill for Jane.  _How long have we tried?_ she wondered.  _How many times have we been let down?  Can we go through this again?  Can I?_

She had a choice -- find John and tell him or head to the cabin and lie down, let the news really sink in first.  Of course, if she was really lucky, he’d still be in their cabin, the last place she’d seen him before seeking out Dr. Chakwas for her physical, and  she could do both.  Possibly. 

_But, when am I ever that lucky?_

The mess area was empty.  A quick look at her omnitool reminded Jane that they were midway between mealtimes.  A glance in the direction of the sleeper pods alerted her that a handful were currently occupied with one lone engineer preparing to enter one of the available pods. 

 _I need to find John,_ she decided after another moment.  _I need to tell him … He needs to know._ Her stomach churned unexpectedly, though, as another thought occurred to her.  _They’re going to take me off active duty for this …_  

Timing truly was, as the saying went, everything.  Jane’s eyes closed tightly as the full weight of what was happening began to hit her.  _Shit!  The mission … the Reapers.  I can’t back out of that now!  The threat is real, even if the Council isn’t quite convinced yet.  We need to do more to prepare!  We might have stopped them this time, but … God!  Thousands of Sovereign sized ships waiting in dark space … How can we face that?  We have to stop it from happening!_

Instinct changed her mind for her and she turned toward the cabin.  John might still be there.  He needed to know … and they needed to come up with a plan.  A plan that wouldn’t cut her out of the most important mission they’d yet faced as an Alliance soldier, let alone N7.  If he wasn’t, she’d summon him via comms.  Either way, they needed to do something.  Now.

Two steps later, the ship lurched sharply like a drunken hanar …

 

~ n ~

 

“No!”

Jane screamed, a cry of pain and frustration, of anguish and desperation from deep within. 

No one heard her.

Time.  Movement.  Direction.  All of it, as before, was still.  Frozen.  Equilibrium maintained.  Only her emotional state showed any fluctuation as she grew increasingly agitated.    

“Why?” she screamed, struggling to fight against what she still knew not, but dammit, she wasn’t going down without a fight!  “Why show me this?  Why make me relive all this?”  Jerking her head around, she searched for some sign of awareness, an Intelligence that might be observing her.  “WHY???”

Silence swallowed her questions while offering no insight in return. 

“What do you want from me?” she demanded next.  “Either send me on -- heaven or hell, I care not at this point! -- do something or return me to my world!”

Nothing happened for a moment.  All remained as it had been … but then, quite suddenly and for the first time since her arrival, she sensed a Shift.  Slow and subtle, it was still obvious enough to catch her attention.  Far in the distance, how far she couldn’t tell exactly, a pinprick of light breaking the darkness.  Infinitesimal at first, it slowly, steadily, grew brighter and expanded in size.  It drew ever closer, until it came to a stop right in front of her.  It surrounded her.  Shockingly bright, she cringed out of reflex, an arm rising to protect her eyes.  And finally … voices ...

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

For almost all of his adult life, he lived on starships and traveled among the stars.  Occasionally, he would have stints planet side, or, as more recently, on the Citadel.  For all the risk involved, there was some reward to serving the Systems Alliance for they took him places he might never have otherwise gone, some of that good, some bad.  But for all of that, Alenko knew deep in his heart there was no place quite like home.  And funnily enough, his return to Earth, even just briefly, wasn’t nearly as much a shock to the system as he thought it might be.  In fact, he could appreciate some of the more unique qualities to being back.

The skies above Vancouver shone with a brilliance no artificial skyline could imitate.  The Presidium on the Citadel came close, but something about those views just didn’t compare.  And there was nothing he’d ever seen that compared to the surrounding mountain ranges, particularly the majestic peak of Mount Seymour.  The views over English Bay were as pristine and beautiful as they were in his youth. 

Home was, he decided, home; but on this visit, home was only a stopping point.  At Councilor Anderson’s specific request, he was to meet with Admiral Hackett at Alliance HQ.  The initial request was unexpected, but he rationalized it away in a number of ways:  Anderson, now serving as the human councilor, had far too many demands on his time to leave the Citadel at the drop of a hat.  Add in the fact he was no longer active Systems Alliance because of his political status, his presence could and would no doubt cause waves in both the military and political community.  Finally, and perhaps the most pertinent of the reasons he could conjure, Alenko knew he was up for another promotion.  To refuse the assignment would be certain suicide for his career. 

That aside, Alenko was well aware of another and much more personal reason, one he wasn’t willing to share with anyone else just yet.  Hours before his departure from the Citadel, he’d received an urgent message from Williams asking him to meet her ASAP.  She, too, was Earth-side.  After a quick exchange of messages, she arranged to meet him in Vancouver.

As bars went, the _Off Hours_ was an old favorite that dated back to his years immediately before signing on with the Alliance.  A mix of clientele frequented the place, including a few Alliance personnel, but when Alenko arrived early and found a booth in a back corner, he noticed no familiar faces.  Still uncertain as to what exactly Williams wanted to discuss, he figured she would likely want as much privacy as could be found.  Sliding into the booth, he ordered a beer and a whiskey and sat back to wait.

They’d agreed to meet at sixteen-hundred hours.  Three-quarters of an hour came and went and finally she arrived.  She, too, was alone.  Waving across the room, he caught both her attention and their server’s.  Williams was the first to react and just dropped into the seat when the server walked up.  “What’re you having, Chief?” Alenko asked.

“Something cold and strong,” she muttered.

The server grinned.  “I’ll be right back with that.  Sir?”

Alenko shook his head.  “I’m good for now, thanks.”  He turned his attention to Williams as the server walked off.  “So, what’s going on, Chief?  Your message sounded pretty serious.”

Williams snorted, shaking her head and scrunching her nose at him.  “How did you get that from a text message?”

He shrugged.  “Tech is my specialty, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, but he didn’t miss the wariness in them.  Her lips pressed into a thin line as she settled into her seat.  _She’s worried about something._   The server returned with a draft beer for Williams then left the two in peace.

“So,” she began after downing nearly half the glass in one gulp, “I recently accompanied the skipper on one of his N7 missions.”

Startled, Alenko’s brow darted up.  “I hadn’t heard about that.”

She shrugged.  “Not surprised.  Pretty hush hush from what they told us.”  Taking a smaller sip this time, she continued, “Anyway, that’s not why I asked to meet … well, not _entirely_ why.”

Alenko considered both what she’d said and what she hadn’t.  It wasn’t difficult to move forward from there.  “Something happen while you were on the mission?”

She snorted softly and with the glass nearing her lips the rush of air sent a small amount of residual suds airborne.  “Are you a mind reader?” she muttered.  Sighing in resignation, she used her sleeve to wipe the suds from her nose and cheek.  “You could say that.  Shit, I don’t even know how to explain it … and a part of me thinks I ought to keep it to myself, but you’re in this as deep as I am and …”

His hand shot out across the table between them in the universal signal for ‘not so fast.’  “Whoa, Chief, slow down.  You’re losing me.  How did I get pulled into this?  I wasn’t on the mission with you.”

Silence dropped around them for a moment save for the music in the bar.  Williams downed the rest of the contents of her glass before setting it on the table with a loud thud.  She waved across at the server for another one before facing him.  “How much do you hear about the N7 missions he goes out on?” she asked.

Alenko shrugged.  “Not the details, of course, though occasionally I see his reports come across Anderson’s desk.”  That usually depended upon the mission objective, but he thought most were specifically requested by the councilor himself, which wasn’t surprising since the man was a trained N7 himself. 

“Few months back, I asked him to tell me about what a typical mission was like -- just to get an idea what he’s facing and how he’s thinking while he’s gone, you know the deal,” she began. 

Alenko nodded.  Anderson had asked him to keep an eye on Shepard, just to make sure the commander wasn’t running into any personal issues as he returned to duty.  He suspected either Anderson or someone Alliance related had tagged Williams for the same task.  _Two sets of eyes are better than one_.

“Well, couple of weeks ago, my team and I were paired up with him on one of these top-secret missions; him for the N7 stuff, my team for support, that sort of thing.”

A second draft beer was set in front of Williams who took it with a nod of appreciation.  Leaning across the table toward Alenko as the server left, she hissed, “LT, he’s a walking time bomb!”

Alenko blinked.  “How do you mean?”

She sighed and shook her head.  “He wasn’t so obvious the rest of my team noticed -- at least, none of them said anything that I heard -- but I _saw_ him.  He’s … God, how do I even say this?”  She tilted her head as she considered.  “So, we ended up having to fight our way out to the LZ, right?”

“That’s what the training’s for, they tell me.”

She snorted.  “Right.  So, normally I’d agree with you, but this time …  Dammit, Alenko, I’d swear Skipper triggered it on purpose!”  She took a long drink before dragging her shirtsleeve across her lips to dry them again.  “And then, once we were in the thick of it … Shit, the risks he took!  And I’m talking stupid shit, okay?  Like they beat out of us in basic, not just sparkling moments of ingenuity that we all know to expect from an N7!” 

Alenko’s brow pinched into a frown.  To say her words were concerning was an understatement.  “You really think he set this up on purpose?”  

Williams started to nod then stopped.  “Okay, maybe not in so many words, but I’d swear he took advantage of the situation to make sure he’d have a chance to come under fire.  Worst of it is, I don’t even think he’s aware he did it!  It’s like … like he’s looking for an opportunity to go out in a blaze of glory, or something.”

Alenko sighed and shook his head.  As he did so, a kernel of an idea struck him and he bit back an audible groan.  He hated the idea and certainly didn’t want to think his friend and former commander would think this way, but if what Williams said was true …  “Suicide by mission, you mean?”

She nodded.  “Yeah.  He’s taking stupid chances and he doesn’t care if he goes down with it.”

They were silent for a few minutes as Alenko considered this.  Caution guiding him, he asked, “How can you tell?  You were only on this one mission with him, right?”

“Yes,” she agreed, “but he’s told me about some of his others; same kinds of things happening.  Plus, since his return to active duty, he’s gone on at least twice the number of missions he should have.  He isn’t taking the requisite amount of rest in between.  Protocol demands a certain amount of downtime, but he keeps on going out, mission after mission.  I don’t know how he gets around that, but he is.  And from the sounds of it, with each mission he’s getting more and more reckless.”

Alenko sighed and sat back in his seat.  “He passed his psych evals or they wouldn’t have let him return to duty, you know that.”  They were both well aware that Dr. Chakwas would have seen past any smoke screen Shepard might have tried to blow her, too.  She was far too good at her job not to.

“Have you looked at the calendar lately?”

_So, she noticed and made the connection too._   _Shit!_   “Two years.”

She nodded.  “Two years.  Toss in our stalled investigation, and I’d say he’s on the verge of something legendarily stupid.”   

Alenko ran a hand over his face.  “Where is he now?”

She shrugged.  “He _said_ he was heading back to the Citadel for a few days, but I wouldn’t put it past him to be looking for another mission, especially since neither of us is there at the moment.”

Running his hand along his chin now, Alenko sought refuge in planning, organization.  _If Shepard won’t help himself, we’ll have to help him.  But, how?_  “He didn’t know we were meeting here today, did he?”

“I didn’t say anything.”  Tapping her fingers on the table in a rhythmic pattern, she continued, “Do you think we ought to call in Dr. Chakwas again?  Have her talk to him?  She may be the only one who can reach him at this point.”

Alenko shook his head.  “If he’s at the Citadel, I can try first,” he replied.  “My flight leaves Vancouver tonight.  If Shepard’s not there, we’ll have to try and track him down.  Either way, I think we ought to talk to him first.”  He sighed again.  “Hopefully, he’ll respond to one of us.  If not, then we call in the big guns.”

Williams snickered and finished her second drink.  “I’m sure the doc would appreciate being referred to as the ‘big guns.’”

“She’s been called worse, I assure you.”  He offered her a smile and rose to his feet.  Grabbing the bill, he waved her protests off.  “I’ve got this one, Chief.  Let’s just see if we can’t track him down.  When do you head back?”

She stood beside him.  “Same flight as you.”

 

~ n ~

 

In the end, it took longer than either expected before they could find Shepard. 

Upon arrival at the Citadel all Alenko found at the apartment was a vague note suggesting Shepard was out on yet another N7 mission.  Effectively cooling their heels, all he and Williams could do was wait and pray Shepard didn’t do something foolish.  It took another three weeks before he returned, and by the time he did, Alenko was off on another assignment for Anderson. 

Williams, on the other hand, instead of returning to her base requested leave for the length of Alenko’s absence just to be sure they had the time covered.  It wasn’t the first time gut instinct proved right for her and she doubted it would be the last.

“Hey, Skipper.”

With a towel slung low around his hips and another looped more casually around his neck, Shepard paused mid-stride between his bedroom and the kitchen.  He’d been home a grand total of two hours; just long enough for his debrief and a quick shower.  Sources informed him of Alenko’s absence before he docked, and he’d planned for a quiet evening at home while preparing for the next mission.  He hadn’t thought to worry about Williams showing up. 

“Chief,” he greeted her.  “Some reason you’re here?”

“Hi, commander.  It’s good to see you too,” she greeted him cheerily, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.  When he sighed and nodded back at her, she grinned.  “Yeah, you could say I have a reason.”  She took a seat on a stool near the counter.  “Alenko wanted me to check up on his plants while he’s away.  Make sure they’re watered, that sort of thing.”

Shepard frowned.  “His plants?”  So far as he was aware, Alenko had no house plants.

Williams unsuccessfully tried to cover a soft chuckle.  Her grin widened when blue eyes darted over to meet hers.  “Haven’t you ever heard the phrase, ‘Bloom where you’re planted?’”

Shepard folded his arms across his chest.  “Chief, are you drunk?”

“Regretfully, no,” she responded with an over exaggerated sigh.  “But I was thinking perhaps we could take a few steps in that direction.  Interested?”  As an afterthought she added, “First round’s my treat.”

In that moment, Shepard realized she was dressed in civvies not a uniform.  Hair hung loose, earrings and a necklace, even a bit of makeup.  It reminded him of the rare occasion when they’d all gotten together at _Flux_ when the _Normandy_ docked for shore leave while hunting Saren.  _Shore leave.  Been a long time since I’ve taken a break just to relax …_   Though his stomach churned at the idea, he was surprised to hear himself respond, “Sure.  Why not?”

“Good!”  Williams hopped to her feet.  “Go get dressed.  A buddy suggested I try the _Dark Star Lounge_ over in Zakera Ward.  That work for you?”

Half turned toward his room, Shepard shrugged.  “I guess.”  He’d never heard of it before but that didn’t mean anything.  Pausing, he looked back at her and asked, “What are you up to?”

Williams gave him her best, ‘Who, me?’ look.  “Just want a bit of a break, Skipper.  Who else would I go drinking with, anyway?  Alenko’s gone so that only leaves you.”

A half hour later they entered the lounge side by side.  Shepard grabbed them each a drink while Williams found a table in the crowded room.  When he took a seat a short while later, she commented in a voice loud enough to be heard over the music, “They’ve got a little bit of everything here, don’t they?”

Shepard sampled the drink, fighting back a face at the taste.  “They need to get someone who can make drinks,” he muttered.

Williams chuckled and tried hers.  Shrugging, she replied, “I’ve heard the bartender here’ll give you whatever he decides you’ll have.  Not bad, I guess.”

“So, you going to tell me why you really dragged me out here?” Shepard asked an hour later.  So far he’d finished the first concoction the bartender gave him and was working on a second, and much better tasting, one.  He’d even risked a few times out on the dance floor with Williams.  Vaguely, in the back of his mind he wondered if he was going to remember this night come morning.  While the drinks might not be what he’d consider ‘tasty,’ they were quite strong.

“Well,” Williams teased, “it certainly wasn’t for your dance moves, I can tell you that!”

Shepard scowled.  “Hey, I dance pretty damned well, if I do say so myself!” he protested.  “Just ask ….” 

_“Just one more,” he urged, tugging his wife’s hand until they were more in the middle of the floor.  “You look gorgeous and I want everyone to see that and appreciate it.”_

_She snorted once again, but the corner of her lips turned upwards just a fraction of an inch.  “Using me as a decoration, are you?  Don’t you recall what I told you would happen if you did that?”_

_Chuckling, he winked at her and shook his head.  “Never a decoration,” he promised, “but there’s no doubt that being beside you makes me look better.  Always_. _”_

Shepard swallowed tightly past a sudden lump in his throat while shoving the memory aside.  _It still hurts too damned much!_   Bracing his arms against the table, he struggled to his feet.  “I … I should go,” he whispered hoarsely.

Williams watched as what little bit of happiness he’d found this evening faded quickly and she bit the inside of her lip.  _Shit!_   Reaching out, she caught his wrist in her hand.  “Skipper, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and tried to pull away.  “My fault, Chief.  No harm no foul.”

But Williams wasn’t about to let him leave alone.  She knew all too well where that could lead.  Looping her arm through his, they exited the club together.  They wandered aimlessly for a while in silence, mixing and mingling with the people they came across, but eventually ended up on the Presidium.  Staring out over the fountains, sculptures and architecture lit up by artificial daylight, Williams finally spoke.  “You okay?”

A ragged sigh escaped past his lips and it was impossible for her not to feel the shudder that tore across his shoulders.  “Does this ever end?” he asked, not really expecting an answer.

Surprisingly, however, Williams turned to face him.  Still leaning against the railing, she shook her head.  “I can’t say that it ever _ends_ , but the pain will fade after a while.  The ache in your chest will feel less constricting and at some point you’ll realize you can take a deep breath without actually working hard for it.  You won’t ever forget, though I know right now that’s probably what you’re hoping for, but the memories will eventually find a place to settle and things will be … tolerable.”

Startled by such insight, it took Shepard a moment to remember.  “Your father?”

Williams nodded.  “It’s been, oh, seven years now, but the pain of losing him still finds a way to sneak up on me once in a while.  Like I said, it’s not nearly so bad as it was at first, and I will add that most of the time now I just remember the good times we had together.”

Considering her words, he braced his arms against the railing and stared out into the distance.  “How did you do it?” he asked.  “How long did it take you to get there?”

“Everyone’s different,” she insisted.  She mimicked his position.  “I’ve heard people say you just wake up one day and its better.”  She shrugged.  “I suppose that’s accurate enough, though I couldn’t tell you exactly which day it was, then or now.  Maybe it’s better to say I finally realized one day the pain and the hurt weren’t so strong as the good memories were.”

“There were … so many things I wanted for us,” he whispered tightly, head dropping and eyes closing.  “So many dreams we both had and now … I feel like a ship lost at sea.”

Gently, she nudged his shoulder with hers.  “That’s perfectly normal.  You two were together for a long time.”

“Almost half our lives,” he breathed.  “She was my best friend, but more than that, too.”

Nodding, Williams said quietly, “I’m sure people have already asked this, but do you think she’d want you living like this?” 

He could only respond with a short shake of his head.

“Shouldn’t you try then?” she asked next.  “For her sake?”

A heavy sigh shook his shoulders violently.  “How?”

Williams could think of a half dozen ways to respond to that, but she opted for her usual bluntness.  “Well, for starters, how about not trying to get yourself killed whenever you go out on a mission?”  He glanced over at her and she saw surprise there.  “Yes,” she assured him, “I saw it.  No, I haven’t said anything to anyone else except Alenko.”

“Thanks.”  Running his hands over his face, he admitted, “It wasn’t a conscious decision … not really.”

“Uh huh.”  She turned to lean her back against the rail and looked up at his face.  “Skipper, it might have been a subconscious choice, but only because it was a known behavior.”

He winced.  “Maybe,” he allowed. 

“You’ve done it before?”

Inhaling slowly through his nose in an effort to keep calm, he nodded.  “Yeah, you could say that.  Back then, my parents intervened.”

She smiled.  “I expect had they been here now they would have intervened again,” she pointed out.

“Probably.”  Sighing, he straightened.  “Mom’s pretty stubborn.  So was Jane.”  He met her eyes.  “Apparently, you are too.”

The smile curved into a grin.  “I’ve heard plenty of stories about the Commander,” she replied, “plus firsthand experience.  But your Mom?  I think I’d like to hear more about her.  She’s Alliance, isn’t she?”

Pushing away from the railing, Shepard led her toward the elevator that would take them back to the apartment.  “She and dad both,” he replied.  “Dad’s more even tempered, and that’s saying something.”

Hours passed in relative ease for the first time in a long time as Shepard started to talk about his Mom, and he didn’t notice when he started including stories of Jane -- she’d been such a part of their family for so long it was difficult not to include her.  Morning rolled around before he knew it and he offered to make them both breakfast. 

Williams wasn’t about to pass on home cooked food and agreed instantly.  “What can I do to help?”

“I can handle it,” he promised, grinning over at her while he searched the fridge.  “Hannah’s little boy knows a thing or two about cooking.”  He ignored the good natured snicker she tossed in his direction.  “Looks like we might be out of bacon, though.”

“Alenko probably ate it all,” she countered mildly.  “It’s that Canadian blood.”

Shepard snickered wondering what Alenko would think of that comment as he filled his arms with eggs and bread.  When he turned around, he nearly bumped into her.  “I thought I told you to sit down.  Honest, I’ve got this.”

Williams shrugged.  “I can at least help with the coffee, can’t I?”

Moving about the tiny apartment kitchen wasn’t easy and both ended up stepping on the other a half dozen times.  Finally, Shepard, hands now free, grabbed her by the shoulders to keep her still for a minute.  “Chief -- _Ash_ , please sit down.  The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

Dark eyes intensely serious looked up at him as she replied honestly, “The only way you do that is by giving up.” 

John blinked, surprise smacking him full in the face.  Shock turned to confusion a moment later as he thought about what she said.  “I think you’ve helped me beyond that point, don’t you?  Especially after tonight?”

The toaster popped nearby, but neither moved toward it.  “I suppose that depends,” she allowed in a more neutral tone, “on how your next mission goes.”

It amazed him how earlier the need to be _doing_ something, anything, to keep him busy and away from thinking or remembering was no longer such an ever-present urge.  _Am I just imagining this?_ he wondered silently. _Or is it real?_ Then more desperately, _Will it last?_   “Ask me after a few weeks,” he decided.  “You might be surprised.”

Her earlier smile returned, this time reaching her eyes.  “That sounds promising.”

“Hmm.”  He backed up a step and released her … only she pushed herself on tiptoe and kissed his cheek before he could step away.  Shock waves of a different sort startled him, but not necessarily in a bad way.  She turned away toward the counter before he could say anything let alone move.  Chest tight, thoughts a whirl, he took a deep breath and held it a moment.  “Ash …?” he finally, carefully, ventured.

Turning back toward him with two mugs in hand, she gave him one.  “Yes?”

He searched her eyes, her face.  While bright and hopeful, he didn’t see anything there that suggested she was pushing for anything more.  The tightness in his throat remained, even grew, and he rasped, “I … I don’t know if I can do this …”  _Will she know what I mean?_

She lifted her mug, took a careful sip, then saluted him with it.  “You know what, Skipper?  That’s okay.  It doesn’t have to happen overnight.” 

Her smile never wavered and for a minute, Shepard thought he was imagining it all on his end of things.  _Perhaps that’s for the best.  Gratitude, that has to be it._  

“Or at all, for that matter.” 

_Then again …_   Carefully, gently, he prodded the deeper recesses of his head and heart … and was shocked when the response wasn’t immediate pain.  What was it Williams had asked the night before?  _Would she want you to live this way?_   He knew the answer to that, knew Jane would be ripping him for behaving as he had been.  _No, she wouldn’t._   Sighing, he opened his eyes and asked, “And if it does?”  

A soft, genuine and understanding smile crossed her lips and filled her eyes.  “Well, that’s okay too.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always been curious while watching the intro to ME2 about what Shepard was thinking when s/he was waking up the first time -- not with alarms blaring around them, but in the lab, on the slab (so to speak) when Miranda and Wilson are talking. Now I know ...

 

Time stood still and hope, the flightiest of all emotions, clung tightly with desperation.  A moving picture captured as a still … and then suddenly, movement.  The shift to hazy state of dream-like memory surrounded her, the never-ending journey she could never quite escape.  

Disappointment gnawed at her soul, frustration ripping calm to shreds, anger and irritation reaching newfound levels.  Normally not one to lose her cool, Jane roared, the resounding, throaty echo of a lion in anguish.  Fed up and unwilling to wait a moment longer, she fought.  Growling, snarling in the back of her throat, she lifted her arms, ripping at invisible bindings. 

_I will be free of this!_

… her hand made contact with something solid and cold. 

The unexpectedness of it startled her and her breath caught, reversing in her throat and choking back into her lungs, lancing them with pain.  A cough, the violent expulsion to free the passages, hurt nearly as badly, but with it came knowledge and certainty.

_If I can feel pain … I must be alive!_

Her sense of smell returned first; something strong and antiseptic tickled at her nose. 

Barely did this register before the beep of electronics, sharp and rhythmically steady as it thrummed, filtered into her ears.  The word _violent_ came to mind, but compared to the burning ache in her lungs, it found a peculiar sort of balance. 

A throbbing rhythmic beat, almost like a drum, vibrated through her head.  A half second later, realization came: the source was her heartbeat, her breathing. 

In the background yet above it all, the voices that had drawn her here in the first place worked their way through.  A pair of them, she thought, one male the other female.  The language was familiar, but filled with an urgency fueled by the beeping machinery. 

_Smell … sound … If those have returned, what about … sight?_

With extreme difficulty, Jane forced her eyelids open … and was greeted by shocking brightness.  Icy in its sterility, it was different from her other experiences even though it slowly took a fuzzy-like form around her.  She blinked twice, hoping to restore a vision she knew to be fine otherwise.  She winced as a pain that never wavered remained sharp, and the edges of her world didn’t find definition. 

Jane inhaled deeply, filling her lungs, ignoring the pain.  Full realization wrapped around her like a warm blanket.  _This is real …_

Details followed, filtering in on her senses in a rush and nearly overwhelming her.  The effort needed to put a name to all of it threatened her with an overload, but eventually recognition came.  For someone who’d spent half their life in the service, her current surroundings presented a familiar enough scene; _hospital examination room_ , a natural consequence of the violence inherent in her chosen profession. 

Familiarity bred relaxation and a lowering of her defenses.  She was reminded immediately of her experience right after Elysium, and turned her head slightly, expecting to find John …

The reality of this moment smacked her full in the face, a rude awakening at best, and launched her back in the direction on confusion.  _Pain arcing through her neck and shoulders.  Labored breathing._   A whimper gathered in her throat as she tried again to rotate her head right.  When that didn’t work, she tried left.  _Why can’t I move?  Where is John?  The lights … so bright …._   _Everything hurts!_  

“… Something’s wrong.”

Sharp and commanding, the woman’s voice wasn’t one Jane knew.  She wasn’t worried on that count; different hospitals, aid stations, medbays, meant different personnel.  It didn’t matter who it was working on you, just that they did the job right and you healed.  This time when Jane tried shifting her head, seeking the voice as a locked missile sought its target, it moved fractionally further.

“She’s reacting to outside stimuli.  Showing an awareness of her surroundings.”

Unlike the first, this voice was rougher, far less soothing.  It, too, was unfamiliar, and for reasons she couldn’t explain, Shepard winced.  The whimper still caught in her throat started morphing into a full-blown wail.  Pain wracking her head, her body, surrounding her, enveloping her. 

_Make it stop!_ _Please!_ she begged silently.  _John!!!_

She forced past the pain, eyes shooting open, and cast a wide net in search of someone, _any_ one that might aid her.  Still, no matter how she tried to clear her eyes, everything remained blurry, wavering. 

_John!_

“Oh my God, Miranda, I think she’s waking up!”

She gasped, her throat working, the wail creeping closer to freedom.  The problem with her eyesight was worrisome and suggested some sort of damage to her vision.  Panic boiled within, grasping and taking firm hold despite attempts to push it back.  The voices – disembodied and as cold and harsh as the view she had – did nothing to help her current state of mind.

_JOHN!!!_

Movement to her left resulted in a face and Jane blinked again.  Long dark hair, a smile … of reassurance?  She was gone a moment later.  Then to her right … definite five o’clock shadow, but this wasn’t her husband …

“Dammit, Wilson!  She’s not ready yet.  Give her the sedative!”

The first, taunting tendrils of anxiety coiled around her unexpectedly, finding an outlet, tempting her toward expression.  Her lips opened, the scream a bubble ready to launch … until in the midst of the cold terror, a small hint of warmth connected, offering sanctuary and hope…

It was enough to silence the beast within.  Cautiously, Jane’s head lolled to the side.  It took extreme focus and effort but she was rewarded with … a hand?  Her fingers twitched, more desperate than she ever recalled before.

“Shepard, don’t try to move.  Just lie still and try to stay calm.”

Steady.  Determined.  Jane met the blue gaze looking back.  _Hope_.  It was the return grasp around her hand, however, that calmed her most.  Solid.  Shape.  Substance!

“Heart rate’s still climbing,” the man called over.  His face appeared at the edge of her vision but briefly, still the same blur as before.  The panic surged again, threating assault again, only to be pushed back by another gentle squeeze of her hand. 

The man disappeared from view shortly thereafter.  “Brain activity’s off the charts.  Stats pushing into the red zone.  It’s not working!”

The hand broke free of hers leaving her alone.  _No!  Come back!_

Alone once more, anxiety teased the wail forward, struggling yet again for form and substance.  A scream, primal and plaintive, seeking freedom.  Jane fought against it as best she could by focusing on her breathing, but each heaving intake and exhale _hurt!_   _Something’s wrong!  Please, come back!  You’re the first thing to make sense in a very long time … Come back!_

“Another dose.  Now!”

The mechanical beeps sped up, intensified to an alarming rate that even she recognized …

As soon as that thought registered, a half second later perhaps, it slowly started easing off.    

“Heart rate’s dropping.  Stats falling back into normal range.” 

A gentle wave of peace washed through Jane, a soothing balm after so much chaos and mayhem, and Jane sighed.  She blinked, noting her vision still appeared impaired, but she had little effort left in her to care.

“That was too close.  We almost lost her.”

The woman’s face returned in Jane’s line of sight, the reassurance still in place.  Now weary and eyes heavy, Jane thought she saw the woman smile before backing out of visual range once again.

“I told you your estimates were off.  Run the numbers again.”

Blackness crept back in, pulling Jane close and wrapping her in its embrace as the face appeared one last time … but it claimed her before she could find a way to say thank you …


	17. Chapter 17

_“Lieutenant, I would highly suggest you wrap up your work here.”_

_“Sir?”_

_A slightly coy smile played at Anderson’s lips, his dark eyes twinkling with knowing as they fell upon the younger man._

_Briefly, it occurred to Alenko he might want to worry, and it was all he could do to stop from swallowing nervously._

_“You didn’t hear this from me,” the councilor advised with a broad wink, “but I have a suspicion an opportunity you won’t want to miss out on is about to cross your path.”_

 

~

 

The next two weeks flew by with Alenko focused diligently on tying up any and all loose ends connected to his current position.  Time was a premium, moving almost too quickly for all he needed to accomplish, but finally, short of any new work on his desk, the only outstanding issue that remained was the investigation he, Shepard and Williams had opened in regards to the _Normandy_ attack two years before.  An investigation that appeared to be stalled out now that Shepard was back on N7 duty and Williams and her team were deployed more and more frequently for duty.  When added to additional roadblocks provided by the Alliance, the chances it would ever be completed were slim to none. 

Still, Alenko  was not a man to leave anything half done and made copies of all the notes for his own records on the odd chance it ever crossed his desk again.  It was possible he, Shepard, or Williams could come across something somewhere else that might just crack it open again.  Someday.

He slipped the OSD into a pocket before leaving the office.  He wasn’t worried about security – he was a part of the investigation and had clearance to take the information to or from work as needed.  That plus being the last to leave for the day, he wouldn’t be challenged.  He set the security functions of the office and departed, opting to walk the long way through Presidium.  Not too far from the office while on his way to the elevators, an odd sensation crept along his arm.  The old Earth expression, _Walking across one’s grave_ , came to mind.  The sensation itself was similar to when he used his biotics; the light tickle across the skin as the hairs shifted.  Without pausing his stride, he turned, a slight frown narrowing his brow, and surreptitiously scanned the area.  His first thought was he was being followed, but despite the crowds, a thorough search confirmed no one in particular appeared to be interested in him.  Still, as he continued on his way, he kept his attention divided.  Just in case. 

A few hundred yards further, one of the many fountains along his path started to spout its fountain, and he paused his steps to watch for a long moment.  The unease which had dogged him for the past several minutes eased, the tension in his shoulders fading and the always-present dull ache of a migraine easing off.  A soft sigh escaped his lips, relief more than anything, and he waited a full three minutes more before he continued. 

It wasn’t until he ran the last fifty feet to catch the elevator – just barely slipping through the doors as they closed after him – that he recognized what the sensation was.  _Nostalgia_.  He was going to miss this place.  He liked working with Anderson.  The councilor was an exacting man, but a fair one.  Working alongside him was both a challenge as well as a reward.  It would be strange to not be around that on a daily basis any longer.

His lift slowed, coming to a stop and allowing him to exit onto the busy streets of the ward.  Bright lights, hustling streets, and all the noise associated accompanied it.  He usually avoided such places because they tended to trigger his migraines, but this was different.  This, he was now used to.  _Just like the migraine that’s always there_ , he reminded himself silently, but he laughed to himself.  This was his neighborhood, his home.  He’d come to know the people and businesses here well enough to be comfortable around them.  He could even say he would miss them, too, once he was transferred.

A sharp buzz at his wrist instantly pulled him from his thoughts.  Glancing at his wrist, he was startled to see the incoming message tagged with an unknown source identifier.  Again, his eyes darted around automatically, instincts on alert for reasons he couldn’t quite define.  Reassured he was still alone, he pressed a button to open the message.  It was brief and to the point, and he was shocked at who the sender turned out to be.

_Kaidan,_

_It’s been a long time, but we need to speak.  A number of my sources indicate an old acquaintance may be about to return._

_Liara_

The message also left plenty of unanswered questions.  It didn’t sound anything like the Liara he remembered.  Shortly after Garrus left, he’d done some quiet searching to find her in the hopes she might have an idea where the turian might have gone.  What he’d found then had been surprising, but ultimately not all as shocking as some might have viewed it.  An information trader, like the Shadow Broker but to a point, had some similarities to an educated professorial research type.  Still, the vagueness of her message now hinted at much darker things, and that _was_ shocking.  _How well did you really know one another?_ he reminded himself.  _Maybe she was like this all along and just hid it well._

He entered the apartment – empty as usual with Shepard out on a mission – and as he settled in for the night, he considered the message again.  After nearly two years of no contact between them, Liara was reaching out to him.  _She must have her reasons_.  He eyed the words again.  _An old acquaintance …_

Somewhere in between the refrigerator and the stove, as he finished fixing dinner, he began to wonder.  When he sought her out before, he hadn’t been able to make contact with her.  Did she even know?  Was _that_ why she was contacting him now?  _Garrus?_ Grabbing a beer from the fridge as well as his plate, Alenko headed into the other room.  His goal for the evening was to sort through the numerous files he’d copied, encrypt them, and store them in an easily accessible location for him no matter where he was transferred, assuming he was leaving the Citadel. 

But curiosity about Liara and her message gave him another moment’s pause.  Dropping into his desk chair, he set the food aside for the moment and reassessed his plans.  Sipping his beer, he closed his eyes.  _Liara, what’s going on?_ he mused, recognizing his interest was fully piqued.  There would be no letting it go until he had some sort of answer. _Last I heard, you were on Illium, dealing in information.  You never responded to my contact back then.  Why have you been so silent?  More importantly, why are you reaching out to me now?_    

He forced himself to eat his food before it got cold, but all the while his thoughts kept churning away.  He was tempted to message both Shepard and Williams, to see if they had any input about it all, but he didn’t for two reasons.  First, both were off on assignment, and as such were likely on radio silence.  Second, Liara had come to him and him alone, so far as he could tell.   _Why?_  

With no new insight or conclusions, he did a few quick calculations in his head to determine the time on Illium.  Only then did he reach over and press a button on his computer.  Four soft echoing chimes later, the screen flickered and a familiar face came into view. 

“Kaidan?”

Smiling, he sat forward so she could see him more readily.  “Liara.  I hope this isn’t a bad time to call?”

The asari shook her head immediately.  “No, not at all.  I’m just a little surprised is all.”

He was quick to notice the few differences between how he remembered her from their time aboard the _Normandy_ and how she appeared now, though none were major changes.  She certainly seemed to have an air of confidence about herself, evidenced in her body language and tone of voice.  “Well, you did message me asking if we could speak,” he reminded her. 

“Ah.”  Her attention was pulled away for a moment and he watched her glance off screen to his left briefly.  “I was thinking perhaps we might meet in person,” she replied less than a minute later.

He winced.  “That may not be possible.  I’m about to be reassigned.”  He took several minutes to explain what Anderson had told him.  “I’m not exactly sure when, but I’ve been led to believe it could be any day now.”

“Well, I hope that’s good news!”

 _Her enthusiasm hasn’t changed, at least._   He chuckled softly.  “I hope so,” he agreed before shifting the topic.  “But let’s talk about you.  I have to admit, you left me curious with your message.”

She drew her lip between her teeth and if such things really were noticeable across thousands of miles and over messaging systems, she appeared to withdraw.  “Yes, about that ….”

And suddenly, the confidence he’d viewed just moments before was gone, the hesitance in her tone reminding him of her more awkward days aboard the _Normandy_.  “Liara?  Is something wrong?”

Sighing softly, she hesitated a moment before shaking her head.  “No, I don’t think so.  I …  Oh, I’m probably just imagining things.”  This last was followed with an exaggerated eye roll. 

Again, Kaidan wondered if he’d chosen a bad time to call.  “Are you at work?” he asked.  “We can always talk later.”

“I am, but it isn’t that,” she insisted.  “Can I call you back in an hour?  I’m in the middle of something and – .”

His response was automatic.  “Of course.  I –.”  The call was disconnected from her end before he could finish.

Unable to do anything to further his knowledge of that situation for the time being, he turned his attention back to his original plans for the evening.  For the next hour, he focused on encrypting the data files.  It was old habit for him, one he could do without full concentration if need be.

About forty minutes into the process, however, he was sidetracked once again. 

He kept the OSDs in a small case locked inside the left drawer of his desk.  It was about as safe and secure as he could make it in a small apartment like this short of installing an elaborate wall safe, something he really didn’t have the room for anyway.  In the process of putting away the last of his investigation files, he spotted a lone OSD in the back corner of the drawer.  Frowning, he reached for it.  The tip of his finger ran across something sharp and metallic, and he withdrew it immediately, bringing the injured digit to his lips out of instinct.  He was surprised when he found the skin hadn’t been broken.  Returning his attention to the drawer, he ventured in again, more gingerly this time, attempting to fish the renegade OSD out into line of sight while avoiding whatever the sharp object was he’d hit before. 

The soft brush of something silky tickled against calloused fingers.  _Fabric?_   Catching it, he tugged gently.  It took less than a second for the familiar object to come into easier view.  A _Star of Terra_.  Confused, it took a long moment before he spotted the OSD drive tangled in the ribbon.  Only then did the memory return with ease.    

Sitting back in his seat, he stared at the two items in his hand.  He took a long, deep, steadying breath, though his heart raced.  _Shepard’s Star of Terra!_   The day he’d accompanied Shepard and Williams to the apartment on Arcturus came back in a rush the events leading to the discovery following just as quickly.  Shepard throwing the frame across the room.  Alenko rescuing the medal and the unexpected OSD from the damaged frame.  John had been so distraught at the time, Alenko brought it back without comment, thinking to return it to him once John had a chance to heal from the loss of his wife.  Set aside, it was forgotten and that day never came.

Turning the OSD in his fingers, he spotted the markings on the side of it.  _K-SB-C 21.9.83_.  Williams suggested at the time that it could be some sort of Alliance notation system, and he didn’t think she was incorrect.  The numbers easily could be a date.  _September 21, 2183.  That was during the Saren mission_ , he reflected.  Blinking a few times, he sat back and closed his eyes, focusing back to that time.  _Where were we?  What were we doing?  Sometime prior to Virmire, I think …_

A buzz at his computer broke his concentration and alerted him to an incoming call.  Setting the OSD aside, he reached over and hit accept.  Liara’s face showed immediately … as did her surroundings.  Bright neon lights flashed in and out of view and the sounds of traffic filtered through along with her voice.  “Kaidan, I’m sorry about earlier.”

Frowning, he asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.  I just … there are certain discussions I would rather have remain private, if you know what I mean,” she replied.  “And for now, private means as I drive around Illium.”

He was willing to accept her assessment of the situation, especially as he had no specifics from which he could draw his own conclusions.  “Just so long as you’re safe,” he replied.

Her smile was dry, almost grim.  “I am,” she assured him.  “Now, about that message I sent you.”

 _She wants to get down to business now._ “You said something about an old acquaintance returning,” he said, jumping to the meat of the matter. 

The sound of a horn blaring just outside her vehicle echoed throughout the small room of his apartment.  “I did,” she agreed.  “Do you recall the name Cerberus when we were hunting down Saren?”

He considered that for a moment.  Cerberus, he knew, was a name from ancient Earth mythology.  The three-headed dog that guarded the gates of hell, if he recalled correctly.  He recalled coming across it during their time hunting for Saren, but there hadn’t been much information to go on then.  Since then, he’d seen it pop up once or twice, but again, nothing that told him much about them.  “I remember we faced a number of different enemies back then, actually.”

Liara chuckled softly, nodding.  “There is truth to that,” she agreed.  “Think more specifically when we tracked down Admiral Kahoku’s men.  Cerberus was the group responsible for work on the –”

Alenko shuddered, the memories returning in vivid clarity now that he had an association.  He’d been a part of that landing party, the one that found the admiral’s body.  And the one that fought against …  “Those creeper things?”

“Yes, and the rachni workers,” she added.  “We found them at several bases while looking for the admiral.”  She sighed softly.  “It appears that Cerberus is a much larger player than we ever knew.”

“What do you mean?”  Habit had him reaching for a datapad on which he could take notes.  “I thought we put them out of business after finding the admiral dead on Binthu.”

There were a few moments of silence during which he heard more sounds of traffic from her end.  “Their organization is much larger now,” Liara informed him.  “And more complex.  They have … well, they’ve been around, Kaidan.  Looking for information and answers.  Asking questions.”  As an afterthought, she added, “About Shepard.”

His frown deepened.  “About Shepard?  Why do they care about him?”

Liara’s head shook back and forth twice.  “Not John, Kaidan, _Jane_.  They want to know about _Spectre_ Shepard.” 

Silence returned and the traffic was more muted than before.  “Unless they plan to write her biography,” he said after a few minutes, “I don’t see the point of it.”

Was it his imagination or did Liara hesitate before nodding her agreement?  The screen could have flickered, their connection wasn’t the greatest.  “All I know is what I’ve come across,” she told him.  “They are out there, asking questions, gathering intel.  And they aren’t limiting themselves in any way.  They’ve been researching her like … like I did my dissertation on the Protheans.”

Alenko blinked twice.  “Why?” he asked.  When she didn’t answer immediately, he urged, “Come on, Liara, you must have an idea.  Why bring it to my attention if you didn’t?”

“I …”  She paused again.  Half turning, she looked fully into the screen.  “I wanted you to warn _him_ ,” she said in a tight voice.  “I know this whole experience has been difficult for the Commander, but if Cerberus is asking questions about Jane, they almost certainly will want to talk with him since he knew her best.” 

His eyes never wavered from her.  “Why?” he repeated.

She shook her head.  “I don’t _know_ ,” she insisted.  “But we _do_ know the types of things they’ve done before.”  She sighed, glancing away for a long moment.  “Whatever their reasons,” she managed after a moment, “I can’t imagine they’re good.”

He shuddered.  He still sensed she was holding something back from their conversation, but he couldn’t deny her assessment.  “Have they approached you?” he asked.

She shrugged.  “If they have, I haven’t been aware of it,” she replied.  “I … I talk little about her.  It still … hurts.” 

He nodded.  “I understand.”  Taking a deep breath, he sat up straighter.  Commander Jane Shepard had a profound impact upon all those who served alongside her during their mission.  “Alright, I’ll see what I can do about warning John while not outright telling him who or why.”

A small smile curved at her lips as she looked up at him sheepishly.  “Putting it that way, I now realize how ridiculous it sounds.”

Chuckling, he shook his head.  “Not at all,” he replied.  “You’re concerned, there’s validity in that.”  Sighing softly, he ran a hand over his chin.  “And here I was hoping you’d contacted me to tell me something about Garrus.”

Truly startled, Liara drew back from the screen.  “Garrus?  Why?  What’s wrong?”

He took a few minutes and explained to her what he knew about the turian’s disappearance.  “One day he was here,” he concluded, “and the next he was gone.  No word, no nothing.”  He shrugged.  “It was the only thing that came to mind in regards to ‘an old acquaintance.’”

“I – I see.  Well, maybe I can look into that for you.”

They talked for a few more minutes before ending the call, at which point Alenko’s attention returned to the OSD in his hand.  _K-SB-C 21.9.83_.  Blinking twice, sudden clarity, or at least partial, settled over him, and he wondered just how much of it had been due to the conversation with Liara.

_K – Admiral Kahoku._

_SB – Unknown.  A location, perhaps?  Another person?_

_C – Cerberus._

_21.9.83 – September 21, 2183._

Without conscious thought, he slid the OSD into his computer.  The files were encrypted, not unexpected, but he found one file that wasn’t.  His gut instinct guided him to check the information on the file and he found it to be one created aboard the _Normandy_.  Any concerns about the security of the file faded and he opened it.

_Commander Jane Shepard, N7, Spectre.  Notes in regard to attached files:_

  * _Files obtained from Cerberus base on Nepheron and tied to whatever happened with Admiral Kahoku._
  * _Files are heavily encrypted, even beyond my abilities to crack._
  * _Immediately upon our return to the_ Normandy _, I was contacted by the Shadow Broker, of all people, who claimed the admiral had promised to give these files to him in return for providing him with information on how to find Cerberus._
  * _When I suggested he give me all available information on Cerberus (why don’t we know more about them???) in exchange for the files, he refused._
  * _Important to note: He is not at all happy I wouldn’t part with them which, of course, justified my call._
  * _I can’t shake the feeling these files have something valuable in them._
  * _When Saren mission is over, I’ll ask Alenko and Vakarian to help decrypt them._
  * _Hopefully, something valuable re: Cerberus is contained within._
  * _SB’s reaction was enough to indicate their importance._



Breath catching in his lungs, Alenko’s eyes drifted back to the label.  _SB – Shadow Broker._   Sitting forward, he stared at the notes.  The commander hadn’t ever approached him or, so far as he knew, Garrus, regarding these files.  So far as he knew, John had no knowledge of them either, or, if he did, he didn’t believe them to be of any great importance, otherwise he would have asked about the OSD. 

A buzz reverberated through the apartment indicating someone was at his door.  Rising, Alenko slipped the disk into his pocket and answered the summons to found Anderson standing there.  “Do you have a moment?” the older man asked.

Nodding, Alenko stepped aside so the councilor could enter.  “This is an unexpected surprise, sir.”

Anderson chuckled softly.  Reaching out, he handed the younger man a datapad.  “Call it ulterior motives,” he suggested.  “I told Hackett I wanted to see your reaction to this in person.”

Brows narrowing, Alenko gave him a curious look before his eyes dropped to the message … and shot wide open.  “Staff Commander?”

Anderson’s lips curled upward.  “I thought as much,” he stated mildly.

“And what’s this about Black Ops?”  He reread the details again while taking a slow, steady but deep breath in an attempt to calm himself.  This was a promotion, yes, but something far greater than he’d hoped for!

“It’s a new program,” Anderson explained.  “One inspired by and designed for elite biotics – like you.”

 _Elite biotics._   Well aware of the stigma that always surrounded biotics, Alenko’s automatic response was to protest.  “But –.”

The councilor raised a hand to silence his protest.  “Son, you have more than proven yourself during your years of service.  And so have many other biotics.  This idea is something Admiral Hackett thought up based off a conversation he had with Commander Shepard when you all were still aboard the _Normandy_.  Though your name wasn’t mentioned specifically, it was clear to him she had you in mind when she proposed it.”

Stunned, he could only stand there and stare at Anderson for a long minute.  When finally he was able to pull himself together, he said, “It says I’m to report at the end of next week?”

“That’s right.  Gives you time to pack up, relocate, and get your situation sorted.”  Anderson extended his hand.  Alenko took it, shaking it as firmly as the other man.  “Good luck, Staff Commander Alenko.”

His lips curved upwards as he heard the man address him.  “Thank you, sir.”

Anderson retreated down the hallway to the elevators as the full impact of the announcement suddenly hit him.  _I’m being reassigned to HQ Vancouver, to help develop and lead a program built specifically around mine and other biotics’ abilities._ It was a choice assignment, no question, but also one that brought not just a little added pressure.  _If I can help bring down a Reaper and defeat a rogue Spectre_ , he reminded himself, _this should be easy by comparison._  

Turning back into his apartment and letting the door shut behind him, he shifted into ‘logic mode,’ mentally scanning the contents of each room and prioritizing next steps.  If Shepard didn’t want to keep the apartment, any belongings Alenko didn’t take with him could be stored on the Citadel.  He considered sending both Shepard and Williams messages, but held off again as before.  If they didn’t return within a few days, he could leave one for them with Anderson. 

He paused back in his office, automatically heading over to drop the OSD into the drawer … before ultimately deciding to pocket it instead.  He’d need something to distract him during whatever downtime he might have back on Earth.  Why not try his hand at this?  The Commander’s skills at hacking were good, he recalled, but she even admitted his were better.  And without Garrus around, he was the only one left on her list.  _It’s the least I can do for you_.  What he would do with the information if he was successful remained to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick FYI for those of you who watch for update notices over on Tumblr: I will be leaving the site in a couple of weeks. I highly suggest you subscribe to the story here if you wish to receive update notices. If not, check back periodically. I fully intend to keep working on this story through all of the games.


	18. Chapter 18

Darkness and peace guided her gently back to unconsciousness for a time, leaving her floating restfully.    Overloaded senses calmed, panic subsided, and she eased into her previous state.  The haziness resumed, only this time accompanied with the understanding it was not a permanent state.  The tension that dogged her before was not nearly so strong this time around.  Not quite relaxation, but close.

However, what began with familiarity, what brought the faces of those she knew and cared for in and out of her sight, of those trusted family and friends, however, was long gone.  What she found in its place now had the power to terrorize.  There wasn’t much out there that Jane had come across in her years that could outright scare her, but this …?

_The roaring blare of a klaxon, so loud and deep that buildings and rubble of the battlefield around her shook with the vibrations.  Standing was difficult without something to physically lean on.  She fought against the urge to cover her ears, thinking it would give the thing more power over her … the thing._

_THING._

_Unexpected urgency returned with a ferocity she couldn’t quite grasp.  That alone fueled her now, desperation her leading the way as guide.  Actively, she searched, eyes darting left to right, up to down.  Whatever was behind it, it was HERE.  NOW.  She HEARD it … but she couldn’t SEE it.  The darkness surrounding her usually faded by now, but this time it was a constant, filling her vision completely with only an occasional poke of brief pinpoints of light._

_Stars? she wondered.  Only vaguely did the scene – if it could be called such! – before her resemble any memories of the vastness of space as viewed from the observation deck of the_ Normandy _.  Here, in this place, the darkness took on a depth and thickness that was viscous and opaque.  And though enveloped by it, the darkness was less a vision and more a sensation.  A feeling._

_It was a feeling she did not trust._

_Lungs aching as if she’d run a thousand miles, heart racing to keep pace, Jane paused.  Bending at the waist, she rested her hands on her thighs while heaving in deep breaths.  In her right hand was her weapon of choice, the shotgun she used when out on missions.  Frowning, for she hadn’t realized she was armed or armored, she pushed herself upward, straightening while she looked around again._

_The near blackness remained, crowding her, consuming her.  The klaxon echoed in the distance now, further away than before but still present.  The ground beneath her feet – and it was solid ground, she could see that much with a quick glance as it contrasted with her legs and booted feet – wasn’t nearly so shaky now._

“This is true power.”

_A voice, completely unlike any Jane had ever heard before, rumbled around her, through her.  There was terror as the vibrations echoed in her ears, and identifying its source was impossible._

“We fight as one.”

_Hands tightening around her weapon, she started forward, or at least what she thought was that direction.  It was difficult to tell one way from another in the blackness._

“You cannot resist.”

_“Where are you?” Jane demanded, anger stiffening her spine both figuratively and literally.  “Why do you threaten me?  Show yourself!”_

_Several moments of silence followed in which Jane hoped, but didn’t expect, the voice would stop._

“Relinquish your form to us.”

_Anger and irritation warred within her, and Jane launched herself forward once more.  Still cloying around her, the darkness continued to hold, the voice droning on._

“We are limitless …”

_“I don’t care who you are,” Jane muttered, hefting her shotgun in both hands and setting a round of ammunition into the chamber, “but if you think to defeat me, you better think again.”  In lieu of a target for her outrage, she glared at the darkness.  “I won’t go down without a fight!”_

“The forces of the universe bend to me …”

_An ache, just the smallest hint of a headache, started to throb in her head, behind her eyes.  Gritting her teeth together, her jaw clenched as she fought back.  Ducking her head, her eyes closed, the pain growing, gaining strength.  Once, twice, a third time, she shook her head in an attempt to loosen its hold … which it did, but only to leave her with a stream of memory-like visions provided by the beacon back on Eden Prime.  Battles.  People.  War and bloodshed.  Destruction on levels that surpassed anything anyone in her lifetime had ever seen.  All of them, bright, sharp, clear, vivid._

_“What are you?” she demanded, though now she had a pretty good guess.  “Are you Sovereign?”  Could the thing have survived the attack at the Citadel after all?  The ship had been destroyed completely during the battle.  Then again, no one knew much about the Reapers.  Was it possible they were indestructible?_

“We will end you.”

_Certainty rang in its tone leaving Jane shaking inside, if not visibly.  Swallowing back any sign of reaction, she shouted, “You can certainly try, but you’ll have to go through me first!”_

In a blink of an eye, the darkness disappeared and Jane returned to her usual previous realm of floating in a semi-hazy state.  The armor and her weapon were gone, and the only remaining indication that anything had happened was the furious beating of her heart in her chest and the rapid rise and fall as she gasped for breath… 


	19. Chapter 19

“Operations Chief?”

Anderson, seated behind his desk, nodded in the affirmative even though Williams was staring out over the balcony and not looking in his direction.  “That’s what this says,” he added in an attempt to bring her attention back into the room while pushing a datapad over to the edge of his desk. 

Next, he turned to face Shepard.  He, at least, appeared to be reading the information for himself.  “You get the promotion that comes with it, too.”  His grin spread across his face.  “Staff Commander.”

John blinked, but couldn’t keep a hint of a smile from curving at his lips.  It didn’t come as a complete surprise, despite everything else that happened over the past couple of years.  It had been due for a while.  Whether they were waiting for him to move beyond the past or they finally decided this might be the push he needed to get him there, John doubted he would ever know.   Still, it reinforced the idea that things were starting to look up.  “Thank you, sir,” he replied, accepting the datapad. 

“Congratulations, both of you.”  Alenko, resplendent in his upgraded rank, stood to Anderson’s left.  He, unlike the others, allowed his smile to show full.  After all, he’d had nearly a week longer to digest the changes.

Turning back to face Anderson, Williams noticed the pointed look he sent in her direction and she scooped up the datapad.  Scanning through the orders quickly, she noted the deployment change about halfway through.  A frown creased her features, her eyes meeting the councilor’s.  “The Iera System?  That’s a bit far out for an Alliance outpost, isn’t it?”

Nodding, Anderson gestured for Alenko to hand out two folders.  “We have a colony there, Horizon.  They’re pretty self-sufficient, but they’re in the Attican Traverse and like our other colonies out there, they face numerous threats.”

“Pirates,” Williams and Shepard chorused in unison.

Anderson nodded.  “Recently, the Alliance provided the colony with GUARDIAN laser turrets so they can defend themselves.”  He sighed and gave the pair a hard look.  “But there’s been trouble getting them calibrated.  We all know how challenging life in the Traverse can be.  I asked for you both to be assigned there to see if you can’t get the systems up and running.”

Off to the side, Alenko kept a close eye on his friends’ faces for their reactions.  _Do they remember the other threats we discovered that have been plaguing the colonies in the Terminus lately?_   As Anderson had been made aware of the situation, Alenko could only assume this was a secondary reason for sending them there, but it made sense.  Especially since another colony had recently disappeared.  He wondered if the Alliance changed their minds about protecting the colonies out there or if Anderson was somehow subtly doing it for them.  Either way, it could only benefit the colony.  In truth, he was a little surprised he wasn’t being sent to deal with the situation, particularly given his technological background.  Then again, Shepard was an engineer, and an N7 to boot, so maybe it was assumed he would be better equipped to deal with what might come their way.

“… next week?” 

The tail end of Shepard’s question brought Alenko out of his thoughts. 

“That’s right,” Anderson replied.

“For how long?” Williams asked.  She scanned through the datapad again. 

“Until the situation resolves itself,” Anderson announced.

Alenko was startled to sense a slight hesitation from the councilor before he replied.  Eyes narrowing, he surveyed the man more closely.  The vagueness of the answer didn’t escape him, either.  _What are you up to, sir?_

“The colonists won’t like you being there,” Anderson continued.  “They believe having the GUARDIANs makes them more of a target, but there are real threats out there.”  His gaze shifted to meet Shepard’s.  “We all remember what led up to the attack on Elysium.”

Shepard nodded, drawing in a deep, steadying breath.  “Mindoir,” he replied solemnly. 

“Yes.”  Rising, Anderson walked out onto the balcony leaving them alone. 

Williams darted a quick questioning brow over at Shepard who nodded, and both followed after him in silence.  Alenko brought up the rear. 

“The truth of the matter is this,” Anderson announced to them, his voice low but the urgency almost palpable.  “Human colonies in the Traverse get little help from the Council.  We all know that.  Even with me representing our cause on the Council, it’s still difficult to get them to listen, let alone act.  No doubt you three are aware how the Council views the incident with Saren and Sovereign these days.”

Shepard and Williams glanced at one another before shaking their heads.  “We’ve been off on missions,” Shepard reminded the councilor.

Alenko stepped forward.  “Let’s just say that without the _Normandy_ ’s sustained … input,” he interjected in a deceptively mild tone, “the Council has fallen back to the belief that the Reapers are a myth.”

Williams snorted.  “So, Sovereign was a one-off?”

Anderson nodded but remained silent.

Shepard shuddered, gaze shifting to stare out over the Presidium.  Memories of his wife facing off with them, of his hunt for her after the battle up in the Council chambers itself, returned with a heavy weight even as he muttered, “Out of sight, out of mind …”

Reaching out, Anderson clapped his hand on the younger man’s shoulder in reassurance.  “Don’t think that way, son,” he advised.  “I know it looks that way now, but –.”

Shepard turned back to face his mentor, unable to hid the sharp, steely glint in his blue eyes.  “It that’s how the Council sees it, it _is_ that way, sir,” he replied.  Taking a deep breath, he nodded over at Williams.  “If there’s nothing else, we should go start packing.”

Anderson hesitated again, but nodded.  “Good luck, Shepard.”

In silence, Alenko watched his friends leave the office.  Once the room was empty, he asked, “Sir, did you tell them the full story?”

Slowly, Anderson shifted to look at Alenko.  “I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Commander.”

The threat beneath the older man’s tone was unmistakable.  Taking a deep breath, Alenko considered his options, but ultimately held his ground.  “The colony, sir.  The fact that the GUARDIANs were sent so Horizon could protect itself from whatever threat out there has made so many of our other colonies go missing.”

A wall, heavy, thick, solid, fell behind the councilor’s dark eyes.  “What exactly do you know about that?”

_In for a penny, in for a pound_ , Alenko reminded himself.  Having come this far, he wasn’t going to back down now.  Even if it meant a demotion of his brand-new rank.  “Sir, I’ve been here for almost two years now.  I’ve seen every piece of information that comes across your desk.  I’m also active Alliance which means I can get access to certain information that isn’t available here.  Add in the research I did while helping Shepard and Williams with our investigation, and ….”

Sighing, the older man turned to rest his arms along the top of the balcony rail.  “I was wondering what you three might know,” he mused. 

Moving over to mimic Anderson’s position, Alenko assured him honestly, “I’m not sure if Shepard and Williams recall what I told them before, but I haven’t forgotten.”

“That’s clear enough,” Anderson said. 

Alenko nodded. 

“Son, there are a lot of rumors floating around out there,” the councilor murmured after a long minute.  “Some of them true, some of them most likely not.”

Again, the vagueness of the response struck him, but Alenko wasn’t buying it.  “That might fly if it were only two or three colonies, sir,” he insisted, “but last I saw we’re now up to six colonies.”  He used his hand to make a ‘poof!’ motion.  “How do six colonies just up and vanish?”

Anderson’s lips thinned into a tight line.  Eyes forward, still staring over the Presidium, he said, “It took everything I could manage to get those lasers sent out to the Iera System.  The calibration issues are real enough, but I’m also hoping by sending Shepard and Williams they might see something that can help the Alliance determine what’s really going on.”  He straightened and turned to face the younger man.  “You’re right, Commander, something is happening to our colonies.  But, until we know more about it or who is behind it, keep it to yourself.”

Rising to attention, Alenko offered a smart salute.  “Yes, sir.”

Anderson chuckled softly, tension bleeding off his shoulders.  “You know I’m not on active duty, son,” he chided, but the smile that reached his eyes indicated his appreciation of the gesture.  “Now, go on.  As of this moment, your duties to me are complete.”

Alenko’s lips tilted at the corner.  “Yes, sir.  Thank you.”

 

~

 

“I don’t get it,” Williams said as she sat at the kitchen counter slicing up vegetables.  “Why send us that far out into the Traverse just to help with a few defense lasers?”

Shepard shrugged.  Assisting Alenko with dinner preparations was more like being a culinary student at the elbow of a professional chef, in his opinion, but someone had to know how to cook if they were going to be stuck out in the Traverse for an indefinite period of time.  “I don’t know,” he replied, his tone mild enough except for the vague hint of amusement.  “It _could_ have something to do with my engineering experience.”

Alenko swallowed a laugh and focused his attention on the pot on the stove as if his life depended upon it.

Williams grabbed a slice of carrot and threw it at Shepard.  “You know what I mean,” she countered.  “You at least have a reason for being there.  Why send me?  What good am I?”

“Buddy system?” Alenko suggested.  As he spoke, he moved his left hand very subtly to initiate a barrier field.  It fell into place not a moment too soon.  The carrot slice would have hit him right between the eyes if he’d been any slower.

Chuckling, Shepard replied, “Or maybe to keep me safe?”  He waggled a brow at her.  “That was a pretty good shot.”

“Stupid biotics,” she muttered.  Alenko just grinned back at her before returning his attention to the stove.  Williams, however, was unwilling to let the discussion drop.  “I still say there isn’t really a reason for me to be there.  Why didn’t they send you and Alenko as a team?  You’re both excellent soldiers, plus you have more tech experience than I do.”

“I’ve been reassigned Earth-side,” Alenko replied automatically.  With each successive vocalization of the fact, it seemed to be sinking in.  The smile that curved his lips was proof enough.  “You two will be on your own.”

Shepard nodded.  “Never thought of you as a teacher before,” he murmured, but not unkindly, as he passed over more of the ingredients.

Alenko shrugged.  “It won’t be Jump Zero, that much I can promise.”

Silence filled the room for a long moment.  Though he’d spoken of it to the Commander back on the _Normandy_ , Alenko was reasonably assured Jane shared the story of his time at BAaT with John.  Whether he then shared it with Williams or not was another question.  However, based on the solemn expression on her face at the moment, he suspected she was well aware.

“Anderson said something about black ops?” Williams hedged.

Alenko nodded.  “Command has created a team including several other seasoned biotics like myself,” he explained.  “But for some reason or another, I’ve been selected to head the program.  Our goal is to train the younger, up and coming biotic soldiers how to use their skills in under-cover ops.”

Shepard frowned.  “Something akin to those asari commandos we encountered on Noveria?”

Alenko considered the question before nodding.  “Something similar, I suppose.” 

Williams pushed over the carrots then went to work chopping up onions.  “Are you working with biotics from all races or just humans?”

“It’s an Alliance program,” he replied as he added the carrots to the contents of the pot.  “At this point in time, my understanding is we’ll focus on human biotics.”

Shepard nodded.  Having nothing to do at the moment, he stepped away from the stove so he wasn’t crowding Alenko, but he kept a watchful eye on what the other man was doing.  “I remember Jane saying something once, way back when we first started hunting down Saren.”  He paused, searching his memory.  “Something about how well you controlled your biotics and how you had all that hidden power behind them.”

Alenko’s shoulders stiffened briefly but only for a moment.  “She understood,” he replied quietly.  “It’s hard for non-biotics to understand just how challenging it can be to control them.  But she … was one of us.”  He sighed softly.  “She is also, at least in part, the reason why I’ve been given this assignment,” he added.

Shepard’s chuckle was audible.  “That much I know,” he said with a grin.  “I helped her formulate the proposal for Admiral Hackett.  I seem to recall warning her at the time you might not thank her for such a burden …”

Half turning to face his friends, Alenko grinned at them.  “When Anderson first told me, maybe,” he admitted.  “It was a shock.  All that responsibility.  But now that I’ve had some time to think about it?”  Another sigh.  “I’m looking forward to the challenge.”

Shepard’s reply was to retrieve three bottles of beer from the refrigerator.  He handed one to Alenko then one to Williams before opening his.  Popping the lid, he lifted his in silent salute, offering, “To what the future holds for us all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rubs hands together in excitement* And now the real fun begins ...!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently started another run through of all three Trilogy games, and this past weekend began Mass Effect 2. I've tweaked a few minor timeline things, but nothing that should make any difference. Beyond that, I've always wondered what Shepard was thinking as she woke up on Lazarus Station ....

If there was one thing in her life Jane knew with absolute certainty, it was that she was most definitely NOT a morning person.  Dating back to her childhood when her mother quite literally would drag her out of bed and onto the cold floor, usually of whatever Alliance ship she was based upon, Jane hated mornings with a passion.  As she grew, it made life much more challenging and, occasionally, dangerous for whomever had the unfortunate duty to wake her.  Though it never waned much, her husband had, at least, found creative ways to manage it.

Until now.

How long it had been going, Jane had no idea, but the incessant blaring of the alarm eventually penetrated her brain, taking firm hold and pulling her into reluctant consciousness.  Shrill and bone-jarring, it was the loud and obnoxious type, the kind meant to trigger a surge of adrenaline in the brain that would force a body into mobility.  It was also the type to trigger a heart attack in those less healthy and fit.

A grumble built deep in her chest as she started to roll to her side.  _John, shut that damned thing off!_   _Now!_ The noise continued to fill her head leaving her ears ringing in its wake.  _God damn it, John!_ By the time her eyelids started to flicker open, she managed to get an arm into position to forcefully propel herself upwards to take care of the thing herself.  Mouth opening, a whole-hearted, full-bodied vile curse waiting at her lips aimed in the direction of her husband.  As she prepared to let it rip – he _knew_ she hated the screaming summons of the clock they’d used since boot camp to force her out of bed – she forced the breath from her lungs … 

A raspy, dry, garbled croak tumbled forth; one more indicative of the result of an all-night bender or full-throated laryngitis.  Neither was expected, and both infuriated as well as confused her, for she had no recollection of taking ill or having any other reason for losing her voice.  She spent a half second searching for a reason, only to have that process came to a sharp halt when the clarity of her situation began taking shape around her.  Memories returned hard and fast leaving an indescribable pain in its wake. 

The klaxon that summoned her to this state never wavered, its screaming pronouncement still filling the air around her.  In what felt like agonizing slowness, but actually was less than the blink of an eye in time, more memories filtered through her m ind.  Faces – some more familiar than others – flashed before her eyes.  Explosions – the world turning to fire as the ship disintegrated around her.  Desperation and panic beneath the thin veil of professionalism and duty – crewmen and women racing for escape pods, abandoning ship the only possible way to survive.  This did more to send her adrenaline sky high than the alarm itself. 

_The alarm!_ Jane winced, the biting reverberations far too loud in her ears.  If it didn’t stop soon, she would end up with the mother of all headaches. 

At the back of her mind, a remembered urgency … 

_The bridge_.  _I have to get to the bridge and make sure Joker evacuates…._

Head rising with a snap, her lungs filling fully and leaving behind an unexpected ache, she scanned the room.  Through the window, she witnessed a firefight between parties she couldn’t quite see.  Smoke mingled with water, fire-suppression units attempting to extinguish the flames.  The rancid smell of smoke filled her nostrils and her stomach churned at the stench.  _Fire!_   She moved on instinct, her feet hitting the floor, the blurriness of her vision beginning to settle into more clearly defined shapes …

As if from the air surrounding her, somewhere from which Jane couldn’t identify, a voice called urgently across the comms.  “ _Commander Shepard, wake up!  Get out of that bed now – this facility is under attack!”_

Jane drew herself up short, stumbling and dropping hard to one knee and both hands.  Grunting at her body’s unwillingness to cooperate with her, another surge of adrenaline forcing her back to her feet.  “I _am_ awake, dammit!” she shouted.

And still, the klaxons blared; loud, long, painful.  Previous concerns regarding a headache now melded and merged into one large, bright, excruciating bloom behind her eyes.  _Migraine._   She winced and scanned the area around her yet again, this time out of habit, searching for Alenko.  If she suffered so greatly from this, she could only imagine what havoc it must be playing with him right now. 

More fully awake, anger mixing with adrenaline to help her focus this time.  Where she expected to see the familiar surroundings of the mess or at the very least the medical bay on board the _Normandy,_ she instead discovered something foreign and much more unfamiliar.  _Lab,_ it screamed, the antiseptic scent tickling at her nose.  _Lab … sterility … machines and equipment used for experiments …_

Hazy memories, some more recent, others further back, tickled at her brain.  Binthu and the bases there, more laboratory than actual base.  _Thorian creepers, rachni soldiers … Cerberus …_   Just as quickly, the memories shifted to something much more recent … an unexpected face, a hand holding hers in reassurance, _Just relax …_

Jane shut her eyes tightly, shaking her head once.  She couldn’t focus on that now, not when the world was going to complete and utter chaos around her.  Turning, she spotted an armor locker a short distance away.  Shaking her head to rid herself of the last vestiges of unease, she couldn’t stop herself from being pulled back to her last clear moments aboard the _Normandy_ …

 

~ n ~

 

_“Going down with the ship won’t do anything but leave the galaxy’s best damned pilot dead!” Jane shouted, her eyes narrowing at Joker.  “Get your ass into the escape pod, lieutenant!  That’s an order!”_

_Their eyes met.  Hesitation remained, but he must have understood her argument because she noticed DEFEAT quickly joined it.  He shrank before her eyes as the truth settled around him, over him.  “You’re right,” he mumbled, pushing himself to his feet.  Jane moved in beside him and carefully pulled his arm over her shoulder as she assisted.  “Let’s get out of here.”_

~ n ~

 

_“There’s a pistol on the other side of the room, Commander – hurry!”_

Jane’s feet didn’t work properly, and she stumbled again, nearly face planting into the armor locker.  Using it to brace herself, she regained her footing and waited a half a breath to make certain she wouldn’t fall again.  The device opened easily, and she was startled to find her N7 armor sitting just inside.  However, there wasn’t time to think about that and she reached for it.  Donning the gear was trickier than she recalled, but after several minutes of struggle she enfolded herself into it.  Turning away, she spotted a pistol on the table nearby and grabbed that as well, but as her hands worked the familiar, if basic, weapon, she realized it was empty.

_Well, shit!_

As if reading her mind, the voice returned.  _“It’s a med bay, Shepard.  We’ll get you a clip from … Damn it!”_

The curse did more to halt Jane’s momentum than anything else.  “What?”

_“Those canisters by the door are going to blow.  Get behind cover – now!”_

Her eyes fell upon the smoking canisters in question.  Nearby and mostly out of range, she also found the barricade she needed.  Diving to the floor, Jane rolled to a stop against the wall, drawing her arms up and wrapping them around her head just as they shook from the force of the explosion.  _That was too close!_

_“Someone’s hacking security trying to kill you.  Look for a thermal clip for your pistol – there should be some in the cabinet just outside your room!”_

Rising, Jane turned to head in the direction indicated, but she paused when she caught sight of herself in the reflective metal surface on the wall opposite her.  Frowning, she stepped over, eyes intent in their examination.  It wasn’t the best surface to use as a mirror, but even in the blurry, opaque reflection, she could see sharp, jagged lines crisscrossing her face.  Carefully, she lifted a hand, gently probing at the skin.  Pain wasn’t the issue, though an ache was definitely present, but the rough and uneven edges of flesh that met one another?  That was a concern.  _What the hell?_

_“Shepard, your scars aren’t fully healed yet, but I need you to keep moving.  The facility is under attack and they’re coming for you!”_

Grunting understanding, Jane turned away and stumbled toward the door.  With each step, her footing improved, and by the time she exited through the second doorway, now with a handful of thermal clips in her hand, she was able to leap over the impromptu barricade that blocked the open hallway. 

_“Look out!”_

To her right, Jane spotted a mech descending a stairway.  She ducked behind a nearby crate, using it for cover until she was reasonably assured she could take a shot.  In the end it took three to completely destroy the mech, but like her footing, each shot improved over those previous.

The voice guided her through the facility over the next quarter of an hour.  When warned to take cover, Jane did so without question.  A certain level of trust developed between her and her savior, though she had no idea who it could be.  _Is this just another of my ‘dreams’?  This seems more real than those …_

 

~ n ~

 

Dropping into her seat on the shuttle, Jane closed her eyes, breathing deeply in an attempt to gather herself.  Beads of sweat trickled from her temples to her chin, dripping into the opening edges of her armor before finding their way to the clothing beneath.  Too much was happening all at once, her senses over-stimulated, and now that they were leaving, she reeled from it all.  When Miranda started demanding she answer questions, it was the last straw. 

Eyes snapping open, she glared over at the other woman.  _You might be my savior, but you’re nothing but an annoyance at the moment!_  

Jacob, occupying the seat across from her, caught on faster.  While he turned to deal with Miranda, Jane stared out the port window, seeing everything but focusing on no one thing.

“Commander?”

Glancing back, Jane the look Jacob gave her, soldier to soldier.  As quickly as the anger inside her had risen, it faded.  She nodded understanding before closing her eyes once more, allowing the tension to bleed out.  Exhaustion crept up unexpectedly, but it was a soothing balm by comparison to the day’s events.  And, as she drifted off, recollections dating back to the days of her biotic training returned.  Her breaths fell into a slow, steady rhythm, the old yet familiar meditation exercises enveloping her like a remembered friend. 

_Just let me get through the next five minutes and I can deal with whatever comes after that …_

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

“So, what’s the verdict, doc?”

Dr. Chakwas’ lips twitched at the corners, but it was the only sign of reaction Jane noticed.  The woman was focused, dedicated, determined.  And Jane was ever so thankful to have her along on this mission.

“Other than you appear to be more impertinent than when we served on the _Normandy_ together before,” the doctor began mildly, “I am quite pleased with your progress.”  She turned off the omnitool and wandered over to her desk. 

Sitting atop the examination table, Jane kicked her legs back and forth as they hung over the edge like a young school girl.  _The only thing mission is the sucker_.  “Progress?”

“Mmm.”  The doctor grabbed a datapad off the top of her desk and returned to stand beside Jane.  Her eyes scanned through the material as she spoke, “I received a full report from Miranda detailing the process she used in order to bring you back, Shepard.”  Her eyes lifted and met the commander’s for a moment.

Jane was startled at the sorrow she noticed hidden deep and couldn’t stop the icy chill that rolled down her spine.  “And?”

Taking a deep breath, Chakwas shook her head.  “By all rights, it’s a bloody miracle,” she replied. 

Jane pulled her lower lip between her teeth, gnawing on it worriedly.  From the moment she boarded this _Normandy_ , from the time the mission on Freedom’s Progress ended and the number of distractions dropped from the myriad to perhaps one or two at a time, reality hit her full in the face and hit hard, and along with it came full weight of what she’d been through over the past two years.  “Doctor, I’m not …”  Her voice trailed off for a moment and she had to fight to keep it steady.  Swallowing past a sudden lump in her throat, she tried again.  “I’m not a clone, am I?”

The doctor’s right brow arched upwards immediately at a steep angle.  “A clone?  Heavens, no!”  A soft guffaw masked as a chuckle cracked through her normally professional demeanor.  Realizing how that might come across, she reached a hand over and placed it firmly on the commander’s shoulder.  “Shepard, I assure you, you are the same old commander from the SR1.  Your memories, your personality – all of that is _you_.  They may have had to clone a few pieces,” her eyes dropped to the datapad again, “your liver and your left lung, to be specific, and you may now have a number of cybernetics assisting you in your otherwise normal daily life, but you are the same you that you were before.  Just an upgraded version, if you will.” 

“I –.”  Jane swallowed again, relief flooding through her so quickly it left her dizzy.  Eyes closed tight, she thought back a few hours to the end of their mission on Freedom’s Progress.  Running into Tali had been unexpected, to say the least, and though the quarian was in her usual environmental suit and helm, it was difficult to miss the shocked reaction when she recognized Jane.  _Is that what I’m going to have to face from now on?_ she wondered. 

“Do not misunderstand me, however,” the doctor continued as she set the datapad on the examination table and turned to face Jane fully.  “You most certainly are not at one hundred percent just yet.”  She gestured toward Jane’s face and trailed a vague line from her head down to her toes.  “As your scars clearly indicate.”

Jane’s hand rose without thought guiding it only to have it lightly batted away by the doctor.  Sighing, Jane nodded.  “I get it, doc,” she murmured, moving her hands to rest beneath her legs so the temptation wouldn’t be as real.  “Will this keep me from doing my job?”

The doctor snorted softly.  “Stop you?” the asked.  “The indomitable Commander Shepard?”  Her eyes focused on Jane, solemn, professional, sincere.  “If death did not destroy you, I doubt anything else ever could.”  She sighed and added, “As I said, you are the same you, and I well remember our last round of ‘do I get to go out into the field today, doctor?’ we played.”

Grinning, Jane hopped down off the table, dusting her hands over her uniform.  “I’m glad you’re coming around to my point of view, Karin.”

Another snort of amusement escaped past the doctor’s lips.  “If you think I’ve changed _that_ much, commander, perhaps they _did_ switch something in you after all.  Suffice it to say, if I didn’t think you were well enough to be out there, I wouldn’t be approving your participation.”

This time it was Jane who rested her hand on the doctor’s shoulder, her smile spreading wider across her face.  She noticed a slight ache of discomfort as she did so, but pushed that aside.  _Some muscle memory must be retrained, I guess_.  “I could argue that it’s necessary on a number of different levels, not the least of which is I need to build a team for this mission.  But, by your very words, you are approving my ‘participation,’ as you call it, so it’s a moot point.  Maybe next time we can argue about it?”  Jane gave the doctor a good-natured wink before turning toward the exit.  “Thanks, doc,” she called over her shoulder as she stepped outside.  The doors didn’t close fast enough behind her to muffle the sound of the doctor’s sigh.

Finding the elevator, Jane punched the access to her cabin.  As the lift slowly started upward, she thought to stop at the CIC to check with Joker on how much time they still had on this leg of the journey, but she dropped her hand when she remembered their newest ‘passenger.’  Instead, she called out, “EDI, how long until we reach Omega?”

There was a barely discernible hesitation before the AI’s voice responded, “Four hours, seventeen minutes, and thirty-six seconds, Commander.”

A small smile played at Jane’s lips.  _Despite Joker’s concerns, I could get used to this, I think_.  “Thanks.  I’ll be in my cabin for now.  See that I’m not disturbed unless it’s an emergency.”

“Understood, Commander.”

It was strange, entering the cabin.  On the way to Freedom’s Progress, Jane hadn’t had time to come up here and, truth be told, she’d been a little nervous about doing so.  The cabin on the old _Normandy_ had been on the same level as the crews’ quarters.  This time around, they put it above everyone and everything.  A ‘loft’ of sorts that left her isolated, separated, from the rest of the ship and its crew.  That fact alone sat wrong with Jane and she’d half been tempted to ask Miranda to switch quarters with her.  Further consideration, however, had given Jane some insight into the situation.  Aside from the fact that _she_ was the lead on this mission, no matter the full cost Cerberus put into bringing her back, Jane refused to allow one of their people to even slightly appear as having the upper hand. 

Still, there was another reason for Jane’s hesitancy at entering.  She stood outside of the doors, barely noticing as the lift started its descent to the lower levels of the ship, and stared at the locking mechanism on her door.  A tightness built in her chest, constricting almost, and she absently rubbed at it. 

_John, I know you aren’t in there, but I sure as hell wish you were!_

Inhaling deeply, Jane lifted her omnitool and opened the door.

Her initial thought upon entering was that the lighting was horrible, but that changed about three steps inside.  Eyes widening, she scanned over the area, almost double the size of the cabin on the SR1, and took it all in.  “EDI?”

To her immediate left, the holographic image representing the AI appeared.  “Yes, Commander?”

“Who the hell designed this?”

The AI, taking her seriously, began, “Cerberus hired contractors who obtained the plans for the original _Normand_ –.”

Quickly realizing her error, Jane interrupted.  “Never mind.  I – thanks, that’s all for now.”

“Of course, Commander.”

The visual disappeared, though Jane had to wonder if it could still hear her since it was, technically, ‘alive’ in the network throughout the ship.

Moving cautiously forward, Jane shifted her gaze to her right as a small office area came into view.  Blinking twice, she walked over and examined the two computer consoles.  They were similar to the units in the CIC, her regular access point for her messages and other information.  Above them she found display shelves.  Frowning, Jane stared at it.  _Is this why Dr. Chakwas suggested I work on model kits to improve my fine motor skills?_ she wondered. 

To that point, she spotted a boxed kit to the right of the computers, tucked away in a corner where a second desk met up with the edge of the first.  _Normandy SR2_ was stamped on its side.  Hesitantly, she reached out to touch the box.  She winced slightly, a couple of the scars on her fingers managing to find way into her peripheral vision despite her actively looking anywhere but at them. It wasn’t that they disgusted her, by any means.  If anything, given time she could probably consider them battle scars or something.  But, at present, they were a vivid reminder of the two missing years in her life and that a rogue, black-ops group who had at one point in time been one of her most bitter enemies had brought her back to life.

_Am I ever going to get over that?_

Withdrawing her hand, Jane bumped into the picture frame next to it.  A flicker of motion informed her that a saved image was indeed inside the frame, but where she expected another photograph of the SR2, or if she was lucky, the SR1, she instead was shocked to find …

“John!”

Fumbling it for a moment, Jane eventually managed to lift the image so she could see it more clearly and closer up.  The fingers of her left hand traced around the edge of the frame before dropping to do the same to his face.  A small smile curved at her lips, her eyes softening as she devoured the familiar features like someone dying of thirst.  _Your graduation picture from OCS_. _You always hated this one!_   Jane never understood her husband’s refusal to share the image with anyone else.  She thought it to be one of the best ever taken of him.

Returning the frame to the desktop, she continued her examination.  Some shelving along the long wall and the short one far to the right were empty, but Jane figured she could find things to fill them, given time.  Along the short wall, a large door opened into a fully equipped bathroom.  It made sense, after a fashion, she supposed, to have one in her quarters since she was, for all intents and purposes, isolated from the rest of the crew and thus their facilities, but Jane couldn’t help but wonder at the extravagance.  _How will the crew feel about this once they find out?  Do they know already?_

Turning away, Jane spotted a giant wall fish tank, filled with water but no fish.  “Really?” she murmured in amusement, running her fingertips along the glass as she descended the few steps to the rest of the cabin below.  “What if I’m not a fish person?”

Two sofas lined the walls below her work desk, a small coffee table set in front of them.  Though intended to give the room a cozy, homey look to it, Jane wasn’t sure she could ever feel comfortable with them.  She was used to the standard Alliance hard-backed, uncomfortable chair.  Another desk, smaller and lacking the computers, was tucked against the wall nearby with a chair looking like a mate of the sofas wedged in between it and a low storage area.  A few additional chairs sat about the room – one on the far side of her bed, the other with the sofas and coffee table – but it was the bed that now caught Jane’s full attention.

At least a third of the size larger than the bed on the previous _Normandy,_ it was fully kitted out with pillows, sheets and a nice large, soft and squishy comforter.  Two nightstands framed the headboard, and as she took a seat on the edge of it, Jane spotted her personal armory station against the wall across from her.  Frowning, she laid back wondering why on Earth they’d put it up here when she had to depart from the shuttle bay, but her thoughts were quickly distracted at the full-sized window above.

“Holy maker!” she breathed, half rising from the mattress, her hand extended as if she could touch it.  When she realized what she was doing, she lowered her hand again, but the awe remained in place.  Beyond the glass, or whatever it was used to form the window, she watched the stars and planets streak by as the _Normandy_ traveled.  Having grown up on space ships until her mother was killed, seeing this now was a reminder of her origins.  John, too, she knew would be delighted by it – .

_John._

Sighing, Jane’s head dropped back to the pillow behind her, her eyes closing tight.  An earlier attempt to make contact with Alliance Command had failed, and at the moment Jane had no other idea on how to immediately try to contact him.  As Cerberus built this version of the _Normandy_ and asked her to lead this mission, she had high suspicions that they were closely controlling, or at the very least monitoring, all communications.  Jane considered trying to hack the systems and reverse this somehow, but she decided against this for two reasons.  First, her skills weren’t as good with something like this as, for example, Garrus and Alenko were.  Her technical expertise came more on the battlefield.  Second, she had at least one alternative and could probably come up with another if pressed, though it would require a trip to the Citadel.

Eyes opening again, she continued to stare up and out the window above.  So much had happened in such a short time.  The need, _urgency_ , to do certain things, contact certain people, was nearly overwhelming, yet given the current location of their ship things couldn’t be worked to make them happen in a timelier fashion.  Taking the time to head off to the Serpent Nebula to go to the Citadel was important, but her main focus was in building a team and they were much closer to Omega at the moment.  It would be a highly inefficient use of resources to head to the Citadel now when they could check out a few things out here first. 

_I’ve got to build a team_ , she reminded herself silently _._   _If I’m going to do what the Illusive Man wants me to do, I need a good team.  One as good as those I had the last time._  

Her eyes drifted back over to the empty fish tank, staring at the bubbles that filtered through the water.  _I wonder if I can find anyone who is as good as who we had before …?_

 

 

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

The sun shone brightly overhead, reflecting on the gentle waves below like a million little lights off a mirror ball.  An easy, comfortable breeze drifted lazily, lightly toying with his hair.  He was reminded of the many reasons why Vancouver would always be called home.  From the moment he stepped foot into his office at HQ, it didn’t take long to determine one of the main benefits to this position was the balcony in his office.   

Stepping over to the railing, Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko braced his hands against the metal, eyeing the scene before him.  He inhaled deeply, enjoying the clean air that could never quite be replicated on starships or on the Citadel and other far reaches in space.  Fresh, crisp, with just a hint of pine.  _Home never looked so good,_ he mused, a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.  _It’s almost as if I never left …_

“Excuse me, Commander Alenko?”

His eyes closed briefly against the intrusion.  _And then I remember I’m here to start a ‘school’ for biotics.  Whoever thought I’d be good at that?_

An iron will forced the thoughts aside and he turned, allowing the railing to take his full weight.  Folding his arms across his chest, he replied, “Yes, lieutenant?”

Young and eager, the second lieutenant stepped toward him.  “Sir, here is the list of students who will be in the first group.  I have divided them into three smaller sections for your convenience.  Your meeting with Commanders Winslow and Matsuda is scheduled to begin in fifteen minutes.  I had refreshments in place, should you wish them.”  He paused, taking a breath and glancing down at a datapad in his hand.  Seemingly satisfied, he nodded once and asked, “Is there anything else you need at the moment?”

Alenko sighed inwardly.  His left brow arched slightly, the only outward indication he gave the younger man.  “Lieutenant Wilkerson – Kyle … isn’t it?”

The lieutenant nodded eagerly.  “Yes, sir.”

He took another deep breath, hoping he wasn’t about to destroy the lieutenant’s hopes and aspirations for their future partnership in this endeavor in any way, but certain boundaries needed to be set before bad habits took control.  “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, lieutenant, I would ask you to not anticipate my decisions for me just yet.”  He lifted the datapad in his hand for emphasis and nodded vaguely in the direction of his office.  “In order to establish this program for future classes, I alone need to make these calls.”  _Commander, just what the hell did you get me into here?_   “Eventually, we may get to a point where we are comfortable and understand each other well enough that actions like this will become second nature, but until we get to that point, it has to be me.”  _If this all goes hard to port, I’ll be the one to take the fall._

Abashed, the expression on the lieutenant’s face resembled a deflating balloon.  “Yes, sir,” he replied. 

“Good.  Now, there is one other thing you can do for me, if you would,” Alenko continued, the seriousness of his features easing somewhat.  “Please see if you can’t track down something I can use for a physical demonstration.”

The lieutenant frowned.  “A physical demonstration of what?” he asked, confusion clear in his tone.

Alenko chuckled, his smile turning into a full-fledged grin.  “Biotics, lieutenant,” he replied.  He lifted a hand, the familiar bluish-hued aura surrounding it as he pulled the dark energy close.  “We are starting a training program for biotic soldiers, aren’t we?”

The lieutenant’s eyes widened as understanding came to him, and his cheeks flushed lightly with embarrassment before he turned and scrambled out of the office to fulfill the request.  Alenko returned indoors and, during his absence, took the time to look over more of the details of the incoming students.  Most of the inaugural class, handpicked by Alliance Command as the best of the best within the ranks already, were familiar to Alenko.  A few he knew more by reputation.  Lieutenant Wilkerson’s list divided them among the three instructors according to ability and in the end, there were few changes Alenko had to make.  _He’s good_ , Alenko thought, setting the list aside _.  Hopefully, that’s a good omen for this project._

A scant three minutes before the meeting was set to begin, the lieutenant scurried back into the office while pushing a cart before him.  A half dozen small shipping crates were stacked atop the cart.  “I wasn’t quite certain what you meant by ‘demonstration,’” he said as he brought the cart to a halt next to the desk, “but I figured these would do?”

Rising, Alenko retrieved one of the crates and hefted it, tossing it up into the air.  Quickly gathering dark energy to his hand, he released an easy Lift on it, guiding it through the air and around the room, noting that it held together well enough to suit his purposes.  Setting it back onto the cart, he responded, “Thank you, these will do nicely.”

Before either could say another word, a deep, booming male voice called out, “When I was told to report to Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko, I thought to myself, they _must_ be joking.  The only Alenko I know is off chasing his dreams out in the far reaches of the ‘final frontier!’”

An instant smile formed at his lips as Alenko turned toward the doorway.  He crossed the room and immediately took Lieutenant Commander Jenson Winslow’s big, dark, beefy hand in his and shook it.  Out of a total of five biotics in their basic training class, only he and Winslow made it through training into active service.  “The ‘final frontier’ brought me back home for a while,” he replied with a grin. 

A subtle, gentle movement from behind Winslow caught his peripheral vision.  Glancing over to his right, he gave a polite bow to Lieutenant Commander Hitomi Matsuda.  Sporting a short bob of dark hair and even darker eyes typical of her Asian heritage, she was quite petite, especially standing next to Winslow.  However, Alenko knew her to be an extremely powerful force in the field of biotics in both practice and personality.  “Hitomi,” he greeted her.

She smiled, and typical of her nature, when she did her entire face lit up.  Returning the bow, she greeted him in kind.  “Kaidan.  It’s good to see you doing so well.”  Their first meeting had come years before during a more specialized military biotics training class after basic.

Kaidan gestured both of his friends into the heart of his office.  “Thank you.  I’m glad you both were available.”

The east side of his office contained a small sitting area, complete with three comfortable chairs and a larger sofa.  Lieutenant Wilkerson’s refreshments were arranged on a small table nearby, and Jenson quickly moved over to pour coffee for each of them, handing the cups out when he took a seat on the sofa a few moments later.  Sharing a quick glance with Hitomi who nodded at him, he asked, “Yeah, about that … why all the hush hush?  What are you dragging us into?  I thought I had at least another ten years before I was going to get saddled with a desk job.”

Kaidan bit back a chuckle.  “Don’t worry, you’ll both have plenty of opportunity to keep one foot in the field, so to speak.”  He handed each a datapad before taking a third for himself.  He already knew the contents by heart, had planned out the spiel he was about to give them three weeks ago, but he was a man who went into a battle with every contingency considered, every back up plan prepared, every i-dotted and t-crossed.  For the next fifteen minutes, he delivered his presentation without interruption.

“We have an opportunity here, not just for our own careers, but for biotics throughout the service, perhaps beyond.”  Sitting back in his seat, he asked, “So, what do you think?”

Silence reigned for about ten seconds before Hitomi spoke.  “This … this isn’t just making up for what happened at BAaT, is it?”

Kaidan shook his head immediately.  Very few in the Alliance knew of his involvement in that fiasco.  Hitomi and Jenson were two of them.  “Absolutely not.  The idea, actually, was originated by someone else, a former commander of mine.”  He sighed, a memory of her surfacing unexpectedly and a small ache settling in his chest still present from her loss.  He wondered if it would ever completely leave.  “She seemed to think I had what it takes for this kind of thing.  Oh, and she was a biotic, too.”

Jenson’s gaze narrowed.  “Was?” 

Kaidan nodded.  “Yeah.  She was killed in action a couple of years ago out in the Terminus.”

Narrowed eyes flew open wide a few seconds later.  “A couple of …  Shit!  Are you talking about Commander Shepard?”

Kaidan nodded.  His part in the hunt for Saren wasn’t as well-known as both Shepards’, but Jenson had a knack for piecing bits of seemingly incongruous information together.  That he’d made the jump in logic didn’t surprise Kaidan in the least.  “Did you know her?”

Jenson nodded.  “She was … oh, N4, I guess, when we were on a mission together.  I heard later she’d finished N-school.”  He sighed and sat back.  “Always hoped to work with her again, actually.  She’s a sight to see in action and one hell of a biotic.”  Another sigh was accompanied by a sorrowful shake of his head.  “Or, was, at any rate.  Man, what a waste!”

“I met her a few years ago,” Hitomi said in an attempt to ease the awkward silence that took over for a few seconds.  “We were both on Arcturus for a time and we literally bumped into one another at the practice range.  After chatting for a while, we decided on a little biotic sparring.”  Her smile softened.  “Our friendly wager was followed with a night in with drinks and home cooked food.  By the time we were done, she could make my grandmother’s soba as if born to it, despite all the sake we drank that night.”  Hitomi rose to refill her coffee.  “You served with her?”

Kaidan nodded.  “On the _Normandy_ , before she went down,” he replied.

Jenson winced.  “That mission to stop the rogue Spectre, Saren, huh?  That was a rough one.”

Kaidan nodded.  “It was, and we managed to get through it intact until …”  Sighing softly, he shook his head to rid himself of the impending depression that always threatened when he thought back to those times.  Most of the others lost then he’d known to some greater or lesser degree as well.  “She’s the one who came up with this idea – train biotics as an elite force, specifically for black-ops.  Something along the lines of the N7 program, but more biotic-centric.  She passed it on, and for some reason, Command decided I was the one to implement the program.”  He gave each of them a long, steady look.  “But I can’t do it alone, and I was hoping you both might want to come along for the ride.”

Hitomi was the first to reply with a quick nod.  “Count me in, Kaidan.  If nothing else, it will give me a chance to stretch my biotic muscles to their fullest again.  If I can pass anything along to the students from my past experiences, all the better.” 

Chuckling, Kaidan glanced over at Jenson.  “And you?”

Jenson scowled.  “You have to ask?  After the crap we went through in basic, I’d think you’d know my answer to that!”

“I wasn’t going to presume,” Kaidan replied.

“In this case, presume away.”  Jenson leaned forward, setting his mug on the table with a loud thud.  “When do we begin?”

 

~

 

The initial class of twenty students started within the month.  Between himself, Jenson and Hitomi, Kaidan was assured that many of the basic concepts and training aspects were covered.  But that didn’t mean he wasn’t looking for additional ideas.  He spent his mornings in class with the students, enjoying it much more than he thought he might, but he spent the remainder of each day and many weekends in his office researching.  He wanted these students to be as prepared as they could be for whatever might come their way before he sent them out into the field.  Class lectures could only go so far.  The same could be said for training sessions and simulations.  He knew good and well that if he hadn’t had the guidance of Shepard during their hunt for Saren, he would have been at an extreme disadvantage.  It was important to give his students as much practical information and experience as possible.

One such afternoon, while composing a message to a contact higher up in the Alliance who could provide the occasional vid recordings from non-biotic black-ops missions, Kaidan’s concentration was broken when the door to the office slid open.  Beyond it, he heard an unexpectedly loud protest from his assistant.  “Commander Winslow, you can’t go in yet!  I haven’t announced you!”

Kaidan rose to his feet when Jenson entered the room, the lieutenant scrambling after him.  “It’s alright, lieutenant,” he called over to the younger man.  “I’ve given both commanders unrestricted access whenever they deem necessary.”  His gaze shifted to his friend.  He noticed half-hidden amusement in the dark eyes, but something much more serious as well.  “Apparently, he feels it’s necessary.”

“I – well, alright.  Sir.”  He left the room, the door closing behind him with a hiss.

Kaidan sighed and gave his friend a bemused look.  “Why must you antagonize my lieutenant?” he asked dryly.

Jenson shrugged.  “Just my way, I guess.  You ought to know that by now.”

“Oh, I do.”  Stretching his back – a quick look at the chronometer across the room indicated he’d been sitting for a solid four hours.  _Four hours!_   - he asked, “What’s so important you had to get his knickers all in a bunch anyway?  Nothing that couldn’t wait until our morning briefing?”

Jenson nodded toward the balcony, and Kaidan immediately led the way outside.  From the very beginning, all three commanders agreed that certain topics requiring ‘secrecy’ could remain so, but the only place Kaidan could assure them of complete solitude was the balcony.  He checked it twice daily for listening devices – perhaps a bit of extreme paranoia on his part, but as learned from the Saren adventure, it never hurt to be sure.

He walked over the railing, resting his arms along the cool metal while staring out over English Bay.  “Nice evening.”  And it was.  The sun was close to setting, but still hovered high enough over the horizon to provide plenty of daylight.  He’d spent the morning in classes with the biotic students, and most of the afternoon catching up on paperwork.  It was a nice shift to take in the view, despite whatever announcement Jenson was about to drop.

Jenson took a moment to search the skies around them, his way of ‘enjoying the view’ as he’d explained weeks before, before turning to rest his hips against the railing.  Facing the building, he pitched his voice low, just loud enough for Kaidan to hear.  “Overheard a couple of the students talking this afternoon,” he began.

The first thought to hit Kaidan was that this wasn’t a normal ‘school’ and these weren’t normal ‘kids.’  Disciplinary action over things like talking out of turn was usually only reserved for insubordination or worse.  If that was what Jenson was bringing to him, it must be bad.  “Oh?”

“One of them is in pretty tight with someone in HQ communications,” Jenson continued. 

A tingle jolted down Kaidan’s spine.  He straightened, realizing this likely wasn’t insubordination but something else.  “How tight?”

Jenson shrugged.  “Scuttlebutt – and I’ll call it that until I hear otherwise from Command, got it?” 

Kaidan nodded.  “I understand.”

“Scuttlebutt is another colony’s gone missing out in the Terminus.”

A soft groan escaped Kaidan’s lips.  _Not insubordination, then,_ he mused as his thoughts fell back to the research he, Williams and Shepard had done.  “Which one this time?”

“Freedom’s Progress.”

It took a moment for the name to register, and a half second longer for what he knew of it to shift to the forefront of his memory.  As the details returned, he winced.  “How many gone?”

Jenson sighed heavily.  “All of them, man.  Every last one.  Just up and gone.  Poof!”

“Shit!”  Kaidan spun around so he was facing the building, too.  Folding his arms across his chest, he considered the ramifications of this loss. 

“But that’s not the most important part of it,” Jenson insisted.

“Just under a million people go missing without a trace and you’re telling me there’s something more important?”  Kaidan glanced over at him.  “What could be bigger than that?”

“Rumor has it, Commander Shepard was seen there, afterwards,” Jenson returned, his voice now just above a whisper, “accompanied by members of Cerberus.”

Kaidan’s brows darted downward into a V-shape.  A wave of anger, unexpectedly strong, surged upward.  “There’s no way,” he insisted sharply.  “For starters, John hates Cerberus as much as the rest of us.  Second, he’s not stationed anywhere near Freedom’s Progress.”  _Horizon’s at least halfway across the Terminus from Freedom’s Progress, isn’t it?_

There was a heavy pause before Jenson concluded, “I’m talking about the _other_ Commander Shepard, Alenko.”

Kaidan pushed himself away from the railing, turning to glare at his friend.  “I swear to God, Jenson, if this is some kind of a –.”

Jenson followed suit but remained standing where he was.  “This is no joke, man,” he insisted, “that’s why I’m classifying it as scuttlebutt.  She died two years ago – I know that, _you_ know that.  There’s absolutely no way it could be her.  But Figueroa?  He seemed convinced, that’s all I’m saying, and he doesn’t strike me as the type to give in to flights of fancy.”

Turning away, Kaidan ran his hands over his face for a moment, the weight of his friend’s words settling on his shoulders.  _Jane Shepard – alive?  Impossible!  Absolutely impossible!_ “Who’s his source?”

Jenson’s shrug could be heard in his tone.  “Didn’t ask because I didn’t want them knowing I’d heard, but if I had to guess a pretty little dark-haired girl.  Figueroa has a reputation and a type, according to the other students.”

Kaidan sighed.  “You do know that fits at least twenty percent of the staff over there,” he muttered. 

“Closer to forty, I’d think,” Jenson interjected.

Kaidan’s thoughts whirled for another moment or two as he considered his options, before he replied, “Alright, thanks.  I’ll … see if I can’t find something out one way or another.”

Jenson crossed the balcony, his hand coming up to rest on Kaidan’s shoulder.  Kaidan was slightly above average in height, but his friend had a good half foot on him.  “I thought you might want to know since you served with her, you know?  And maybe give …”

Kaidan’s eyes closed.  _And maybe give John a heads up so he isn’t completely floored by a rumor of a ghost._   “Yeah.  Thanks.”

Both men re-entered the building, Jenson leaving the office while Kaidan paced around his desk for a couple of minutes.  He wanted – _needed –_ to find out more information on this little intelligence nugget, to see if there was a way to verify its accuracy.  He couldn’t just show up over there asking questions about a rumor of a dead woman showing up where a colony went missing.  He’d be laughed out of the service. 

Snorting softly in disgust, he reminded himself, _Intelligence is only good if it can be verified.  Don’t assume the answer, find supporting intel, one way or another._  

He needed to do some strategic planning first …

 

~

 

Being in command of the biotic black-ops school entitled Kaidan access to higher levels of clearance than he’d ever held before.  The intention was that he could use information from both the communications and intelligence departments to identify potential training missions for his students once they were ready to test their skills out into the field.  While they currently were nowhere near ready to be sent out on their own just yet, he had been considering ‘joint-ops’ where several students and either he, Jenson or Hitomi accompanied them; a black-ops ‘field trip,’ of sorts.  At least, that was the idea, and whether it sounded legitimate to anyone he might have to justify his interest in the missing colony or not remained to be seen, but it was all he had right now to lean on.

He was granted access to the HQ Communications command center without delay from the marines on guard.  Inside, he located and greeted the senior officer on duty. 

“Lieutenant Commander Reagan Nye, sir,” the woman replied, saluting smartly before taking the hand he offered.  “How can I help you tonight?”

With a warm smile, Kaidan replied, “Thank you, Commander.  I won’t take up too much of your time if I can help it.”

She smiled in return, a small laugh escaping.  “Most of the time it’s boring,” she admitted.  “But maybe you can offer something more interesting for us?”

“I see.”  That was less reassuring to him than to her, he imagined.  He made a quick mental note of that as he glanced around the room.  Aside from the usual hum of electronics and the background noise of the building’s air recycling system, it was relatively quiet.  There were about a dozen or so people on duty working at various tasks.  “Well, I’m in charge of a new biotics spec-ops program and –.”

Nye lifted a hand to cut him off, politely.  “Sir, we all were informed of who you are and that we are to assist whenever you come looking for potential missions,” she explained.

Kaidan’s brow lifted.  He knew they had, but knowing and actually being allowed to do it were two completely different things.  “That should make this easier, then,” he replied.  “I’m starting to put together a couple of teams who show enough promise to go out and test their skills,” he continued on after a moment.  “Just a ‘get your feet wet’ sort of mission, nothing too complicated.”

Nye nodded.  “I understand, sir.  A bit of a challenge, but not the kind where you’ll end up having to write letters home sort of thing?”

Kaidan winced.  “Exactly.  Anything like that out there right now?”

She led him across the room and retrieved a datapad.  “This is our ‘bits and bobs’ list,” she explained.  “Pieces of intel that float through, usually unsubstantiated, or parts of messages that were otherwise corrupted or unbreakable.  We keep them on the list until we find anything to support it one way or another at which point, we pass it on or we dump it.”  She gestured to their right where a small desk, chair, and a computer console were available.  “If you find something that catches your interest, use the ID number to look it up on the database for further details.  Unfortunately, we don’t filter them by potential danger or difficulty, but you can look through the list if you like.”  Handing him the datapad, she smiled.  “Feel free to make yourself at home, sir, and let us know if we can help at all.”

He returned the smile as she disengaged from the conversation, but he didn’t have an opportunity to thank her before she walked off.  _Just as well.  I don’t need anyone standing over my shoulder as I do this._  

Taking a seat, he started looking through the datapad.  It took him fifteen minutes to locate the reference to Freedom’s Progress and the incident identification number, at which point he turned to the console on the desk and pulled the pertinent information onto the screen.  There was scant little for him to examine, a couple of reports by the crews sent in from the team that investigated afterward, and some unsourced video footage from security cameras.  Still, all of this he copied to his omnitool to examine in more detail later.  Assured he had everything available on it, he spent another half hour doing the same for five other potential missions before taking his leave.

When he exited the building, he discovered it was well past sunset.  The grumble in his stomach reminded him he’d bypassed dinner and should probably rectify that situation.  As much as he wanted to go straight home so he could start looking through the information on Freedom’s Progress, he knew he’d pay the price if he didn’t eat soon.  Turning left toward the nearest mess, he opted to remain on HQ grounds and eat instead of fixing his own meal at home. 

_Spectre-Commander Jane Shepard is dead_ , he reminded himself as he walked toward the building.  _Nothing will ever change that._ Now that time had passed since Jenson’s announcement, Kaidan was almost embarrassed at just how hopeful he’d become over the idea that Jane Shepard somehow could still be alive.   _Probably just another red-headed Alliance soldier …_

Biotics had a considerably higher metabolism rate than normal humans and one of the first things they were taught in training was that they needed to always stay on top of their meals, carry snacks, and recognize the signs when they were running low.  A careful balance of protein, carbs, and other essentials was a must, and usually required a substantial meal to ingest it all.  Paying attention to this, he selected his meal and paid for it before taking a seat well away from any others.

He was out of the mess in under twenty minutes, nearly running to his car.  The more he thought about it, the more he decided he really needed to look at the information he found sooner rather than later.  Another colony disappearing, that was, sadly, something that needed more interest as well as tracking, particularly since he noticed the pattern months ago and passed it along to Command at that time with Anderson’s full endorsement. 

But that was one thing.  The reference to a sighting of an Alliance Lieutenant Commander and Council Spectre known to be dead for over two years?  That was something else entirely.  It couldn’t be true, he knew it, he accepted it, but the underlying problem was still present: assuming the rumors were true, someone witnessed an Alliance soldier with Cerberus agents at a human colony that disappeared. 

_Why would any Alliance soldier be working with Cerberus, let alone one that resembled Commander Shepard???_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this story is an AU, I'll be exploring some additional ideas that have been poking at me regarding the Mass Effect story overall. For example, how/when/where Kaidan started his biotic black ops training for his students. There will be more for other characters, too!


End file.
